The Phantom Train
by Realms of Destiny
Summary: Yuna, a young wife with a cheating husband, and Lightning, a female officer working in a man's world. The Phantom Train is a mysterious vehicle that is said to have changed the fate of those who board it. Nobody knows where it comes from or where it heads to, only that it stops at the station at midnight. When Yuna and Lightning board the train, everything changes. AU
1. Chapter 1

The metropoliton city of Zanarkand never slept. The lights blinded everyone every night, and each corner was bustling with alacrity. People quickly adapted to the modern era, never allowing the past to impede them from driving forward. They were smart enough to forget scepticism and ignore those who were unfortunate to be born in this dynamic century.

For Yuna, she loved the noise of life from her windows, yet her heart longed for her homeland, that little island that was greeted by the ocean, with palm trees swaying in the eternal summer breeze. She missed the honesty of her people, compared to the luxurious, boastful citizens of Zanarkand. However, Yuna and her father decided to sacrifice their peaceful life all for the sake of her husband Tidus.

Her friends regarded her impulsive but Yuna's father, a high priest who practiced apothecary, was adamant that she get married to Tidus before their relationship blossomed. At the ripe age of twenty, the wedding bells rang throughout Zanarkand, where the most accomplished soccer player and a priest's daughter became one under the eyes of God.

Every inch of her heart loved Tidus, for his vivacious personality, his dreadfully honest demeanour and his dense nature at times. These were traits that the sheltered girl wished she possessed, but she was too polite, too kind and too compassionate. She was the night as Tidus represented the day. His fans didn't receive her too well. They were jealous that a priest's shallow daughter had snatched their superstar under their runny noses.

Little did they know that Yuna's father, and Tidus' father were best mates since the old days. It was Jecht, Tidus' dad, who introduced them. Tidus was instantly smitten with her, claiming her the most beautiful girl he had ever set his eyes on. He respected her father's wishes and was ready to wed her before they started a relationship.

Yuna still recalled her horror when she discovered what should happen on the wedding night. She wasn't accustomed to having a man's company but Tidus erased her fears soon enough. She adored the way his strong arms would circle her delicate shoulders, or the way he'd scoop her up off her feet. She enjoyed leaning into his chest while they drifted off to sleep, drowning in dreams where reality was sweeter to their senses.

Nothing would dare distort her life. She imagined this bliss to last forever, that is, before she met _him_ on the Phantom Train.

:::::::::::::::

The sun rose early, earlier than the citizens of Zanarkand. It glared high above them, its rays washing the magnificent city in a mist of blinding white light. The city was filled with an ethereal glow. The streets were empty, for this city breathed most at night. Very few dared to pull their faces off their pillows.

High up in a tall, dome shaped building, Yuna slept peacefully within her apartment. Her lips were slightly open as the rattle of sleep shook her breath. She was lying flat on her back, her hand daintily placed over the other. It was a rare sight to witness such a silent dreamer in Zanarkand, where people slept only to wake for the next day.

Yuna slept because she liked to dream. She dreamt of her childhood home often more than anything. The nostalgia washed over her like how the waves splashed on the shores of her favourite beach. She dived into the precious memories of her past, the way the fish dived in her favourite sea.

The smell of eggs and banana milkshake reached Yuna's nostrils before anything else. Her eyes fluttered open, realising that her blind had been pulled up. Tidus was standing next to the window, still wrapped in his nightgown. He held a wooden tray with a few objects standing atop it. Yuna blinked a few times, to regain focus in her vision.

On the tray were two plates of half fried eggs, a copper kettle that puffed out steam from the sprout, warm toast and with a small jar of marmalade on the side. The sight caused a low grumble to escape from her stomach, and deep chuckle from Tidus' throat.

"Someone's hungry," He teased, his grin growing wider on his face.

Yuna blushed, tying her night gown before raising into a sitting position. She was greeted with a light kiss on her forehead.

"About time you woke up, sleeping beauty. Thought I'd make you breakfast," Her husband told her, setting the tray in between them, while he sat cross-legged before her.

He always cooked the breakfast, and they usually ordered their dinner from their favourite Japanese restaurant. Yuna was never a good cook. In fact, she couldn't even assemble a sandwich if her life depended on it. She remembered the time when she attempted to cook noodles and broth. Tidus had to be rushed to hospital for food poisoning.

Ever since, Tidus prevented her from stepping foot in the kitchen. He prepared breakfast and lunch, while dinner was provided by deliveries. Cloud Strife, a good friend of Tidus, was their delivery man. The former soldier had given up the gun for food instead. He took orders from restaurants and delivered food to doorsteps for a lower price. Yuna rarely knew most of Tidus' friends, only two really. He never introduced her to his group.

She preferred to spend her time in the zoo, where she had grown attached to the lion, Ifrit, and the exotic parrot, Valefor. It wasn't that she was shy to make friends. She simply preferred the company of animals over people.

"Good morning," She said, reaching for her plate of eggs.

"How's my princess this morning?" Tidus asked, his mouth full of bread and jam, earning a few giggles from Yuna, "You sure like sleeping in these days." He gulped down, almost choking before Yuna handed him a glass of water. "Thanks. Anyways, is everything okay?"

She avoided eye contact, cutting the white flesh of her egg and piercing it with her fork, before bringing it to her mouth. It rolled around her mouth for a bit. The oil was still fresh on the egg. Tidus had overcooked it. She suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore but ate it anyway so as to not dishearten her husband.

"I'm fine," She assured him, with a gentle smile, "I've just been sleeping late…You know?"

"Everyone sleeps late here, Yuna," Tidus said, handing her half a toast that was smeared with a generous amount of marmalade, "But I'm just worried. You're not sick, are you?"

"Oh no, no!" Yuna shook her head, guilt constricting her heart. "I'm perfectly fine. I just…Like to dream."

"Oh." Tidus blinked in surprise, before his lips curved into a cheeky smile and saying in a husky voice, "It's about me, isn't it?"

His innuendo forced her face to glow with heat. Her palms pressed on her cheeks and she let out a nervous giggle.

"No," She mouthed, "Unfortunately."

Her husband's smile disappeared and his brows furrowed with disappointment. "Then what?"

She couldn't tell him what she dreamed of. She knew that if she did, he would cancel his training with his team and set off for her childhood home again. She didn't want to feel responsible if he got berated by his team. She would never forgive herself for that. Tidus' reputation must never be soiled by her. She was already hated by his fans.

"I can't remember the dream, silly," She told him.

He rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in conversation before shrugging his shoulders. "You know, you're a bad liar."

"R-really?" She swallowed, staring at him with awe.

He laughed at her bewildered expression and patted her head lovingly. "I know you like the back of my palm, Yuna. You're easy to read."

Yuna sighed in frustration. She considered herself quite adept at concealing her emotions. Tidus must have noticed her change of mood so he shifted beside her, his arm travelling down to the small of her back.

"But what matters is that you're always beside me," He said softly in her ear which sent shivers down her spine, and then pulled back, "Anyways, I've got some good news."

"Really?" She asked, still mesmerized by his closeness.

She couldn't imagine her life without him. He was her little box of sunshine, that brought happiness into her, otherwise, dull life. He carried this aura that attracted her to him, like nectar would to an intoxicated bee. She wrapped herself in his scent, knowing that no other man could ever take his place. No other man could make her heart flutter like he did.

"Uh-huh," He said, and he sat up straight, one knee propped up with his hand resting on it, "The Crystal Cup will be starting soon!"

The Crystal Cup involved the best soccer teams playing against each other in a faraway city. It was one of the greatest moments in sport, uniting nations and cultures together. Tidus was the captain of the Zanarkand Abes. At twenty years of age, this was an amazing accomplishment. He was already sparking the interest of famous, foreign teams. Jecht had warned Yuna not to get too comfortable in Zanarkand. It wouldn't be long until Tidus should move to another city.

Yuna wouldn't complain though. She loved strolling through the sleepless streets of Zanarkand, but she was detached from the people and the atmosphere. She was an outsider in this rapidly changing world. To mould into the heart of the city was to let go of her past, one that she treasured.

She stared at her hands, upset that Tidus would be leaving soon. "When…Must you leave?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh…I hope…You win."

"Uh…Yuna?" Tidus' larger hands circled hers. "Aren't you coming with me? To Midgar?"

"Huh?" She blinked at him a few times before smiling. "You wouldn't mind? I mean…It would be great if I could come."

"What do you mean if you could come?" Tidus gasped in shock, "You're my wife, I'll make sure you'll get front seat!"

His enthusiasm enlightened her within and her fingers grasped his in excitement. "I'll cheer for you, until I could cheer no more."

"Yeah!" Tidus nodded in joy.

He embraced her tight until her breath was almost crushed inside her throat. She returned the embrace, basking in the warmth and strength of his torso. Her smile was forgotten in the crook of his shoulder. Then her happiness was shattered, as if a rock was thrown through a window.

She ripped herself away from the expanse of his arms. He stared at her with confusion and slight hurt.

"My father-He'll be alone. I must ask him first. I can't leave the apothecary for him to run on his own."

"_Oh,_" Tidus guffawed, as he contemplated her words, "Oh come on, Yuna. I'm sure that old geezer can look after himself for three months on his own."

"Tidus!" Yuna retorted, smacking a palm across his shoulder.

"The-hey!" He protested, slipping back, "Okay, okay. You can go and ask your old man first."

:::::::::::::

Her father's apothecary was not too far from where Yuna lived. Her apartment blocks were built in one of the more prestigious streets in Zanarkand, partly due to Tidus' generous salary. Tidus proved his philanthropist nature, after he insisted on buying a store for her father and allowing him to practice his apothecary there.

Yuna honestly thought her father's business was not that successful. In this current era, where medicine and technology tied in together, Zanarkand had one of the best developed hospitals in this world. The people that mostly visited her father's store were frail and old couples, who did not rely on modern treatments.

She walked through the streets. A few figures swivelled past her, shouting at the passing bus to wait for them. She stared at the azure, clear sky, purer than the hearts of Zanarkand's citizens. The sun burned within the blue depths like a bright, molten stone. The sweltering heat shimmered in the distance, distorting the scenery until the buildings appeared to be billowing like paper.

She had chosen to wear a long, flaccid white skirt that reached her ankles and a modest pale yellow blouse. Her boots were trapping the heat inside her feet. She was sure that her feet will stink of sweat later on. A desire to cool them inside a pool was a refreshing option.

Her father's store appeared around the corner, as she recognised his bright yellow wallpaper. It was jammed in between a famous café, and a music store. Modern pop music blared from the neighbouring shop, words of filth and lust ringing in her ears. Her father would pass this shop disapprovingly every day. He was not too fond of the current music that hit the charts, thinking they were poisoning the fragile minds of today's youth.

Yuna pushed open the door, a bell ringing as she stepped inside. The store inside was small but cosy. Lines of wooden rows were stacked against the walls all the way to ceilings. On those shelves were bottles of different herbal medicines. A wooden stool was cast away at the side, ready to be used should a customer wish to reprieve a jar from a higher shelf. A few comfortable couches were placed in the right corner. A middle-aged man looked up from his magazine, his grin growing when he caught her eyes.

"Yuna!" He exclaimed, rising from his seat and towering over her, "It's good to see you again! I haven't seen ya in ages. How long has it been?"

"Sir Jecht, it's nice to see you too," Yuna responded, giving him a hug, "And it's only been a day since we've seen each other last."

Jecht was rough around the edges, and often harsh when he spoke, especially to his own son. However, he carried this soft spot inside him that was visible if one scrutinised closely. He reminded Yuna of a big, giant teddy bear. At times, she just wanted to cuddle him and snuggle against his shoulder. He favoured her over Tidus, still astonished when Yuna's father chose the latter to become his son-in-law.

"Has it really?" Jecht spoke in rough accent, rubbing his prickly beard with the sole of his palm, "It feels longer than that."

"I suppose…" Yuna started, thinking of a possible solution to his short term memory, "It could be that you sleep less…Which makes it seem like you are alive longer, you know?"

"Hmm…" Jecht blinked at her, clearly confused yet made a poor attempt to conceal it, "I see what ya mean."

"Jecht, who is it?" Another man skittered out of a door at the back of the store.

He was holding a large box, filled with bags of herbs and spices. The box was too heavy for him and it slipped from his grip with a loud thud. The pouches scattered across the laminated, wooden floor. Jecht cursed loudly, but hurriedly apologised in front of Yuna.

"Father," Yuna sighed in amusement.

She bent over, helping her father to replace the herbs back into the box. She noticed that new wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his lips. Her brows furrowed with apprehension. Perhaps he always looked this old, but she only recognised it now.

"Good morning, Yuna," He greeted her with a kind smile, before turning to Jecht, "Really Jecht, can't you take care of that mouth of yours? Especially when it's before my daughter?"

"Braska, you're such a klutz," Jecht murmured, pulling the box from Braska, "And give me that. Now, where do I put it?"

"Seventh floor, Jecht," Braska told him, rushing to the counter and pressing a few buttons.

"Father," Yuna began, worried that he stressed over the apothecary, "It's…Afternoon."

"Huh?" He glanced at her before realisation dawned on him. "Oh yes! Forgive me, Yuna. I just awoke half an hour ago."

"Did you eat anything?" She demanded, striding to his side as he fixed up money notes inside his cashier.

"Heh, you're in trouble now, Braska," Jecht teased, now standing on the stool and placing the herbs in their rendered spots.

Yuna looked between the two old men and scowled at her father. "Father, you promised to eat your food on time! The doctor has already warned that you're diabetes would just get worse!"

Her father gave a deep sigh and he gazed at her with guilt, appearing much older than his forty-two years.

"Forgive me, Yuna," He repeated, "I will make an effort after today."

"But you say that every day," She reminded him.

"Don't you dare make Yuna cry, now," Jecht quipped, almost dropping a sachet to the floor but catching it between the fissures of his toes.

Yuna forgot that Tidus' dad hated wearing shoes. She couldn't understand why. When she asked one day, he told her that he was too awesome to consider wearing any shoes. Tidus conjured a different story, on the other hand. He suggested that Jecht's feet were too large for human size.

"_Anyways,_" Yuna's father continued, his physiognomy cringing after witnessing Jecht remove the sachet from between his toes and stacking it on the shelf, "What brings you here today, Yuna."

"Don't change the subject, please," Yuna warned him.

"No really, Yuna, I swear from today. You have my word on it."

"And if he breaks that promise, come to me, will ya?" Jecht suggested, winking at her.

"Okay…" Yuna took a deep breath, unsure whether to break the news to them.

A part of her was certain that they already knew.

"Tidus was wondering if…I could go to the Crystal Cup tournament with him."

Jecht snorted, louder than anticipated but quickly regained composure. Her father surveyed her with curiosity.

"Yuna, you needn't ask me for permission. You are his wife after all," He said gently.

"But…I can't leave you like this," She explained, torn between who to choose.

If she didn't go with Tidus, he might get upset with her since this tournament was so important to him. If she left her father, she was afraid that his illness will succumb his health without her there to take care of him.

"Yuna," Her father said softly, his hand resting on her shoulder, "I'll be fine."

"That's right, kid," Jecht added, "I'll be there to look after him for ya."

For some reason, Yuna was not convinced, but she didn't tell them this. After all, she never wanted to hurt their feelings.

"Now, how about we get some lunch?" Jecht queried, throwing an arm each around their shoulders.

::::::::::::

Lunch progressed into dinner and Yuna found Jecht's insatiable appetite amusing. The former soccer player insisted on paying for their fancy feasts, despite her father's disapproval.

Yuna enjoyed the food in the current restaurant, Seventh Heaven, which was attended by a beautiful bartender with a generous bosom.

For lunch, she devoured sandwiches that were embellished with salad, turkey and pickles. The acidity and salty flavours left her with content. Dinner consisted of more gravy dishes, with thick sauces and deeply cooked beef. She wasn't too fond of the meat, but the dessert was more than satisfying. She swallowed the last of her mango cheesecake, smiling at the two older men with bliss.

Jecht was too intoxicated to talk anymore. All that left his mouth were incoherent words. His co-ordination wasn't on par either. When he stood, he almost toppled over the table and threatened to fight any man that stared at him. Her father aided the large man out of the restaurant after the bartender's warnings to call the police. Yuna followed her father out.

The sky was sprinkled with stars, and the eve of darkness fell upon the magnificent city. The place was slowly basked in golden lights from all windows, and more bodies strolled the streets than earlier.

"Yuna," He turned to look at her, while Jecht's eyes rolled in their sockets, "I'll take Jecht home. Do you know where Tidus is?"

"I think he's just finished training," Yuna answered him, "I'll head to the stadium."

Her father surveyed the area carefully. He never liked her roaming the large city by her own.

"We could drop off Jecht first," He suggested, "And then I'll come with you to find Tidus."

Yuna placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. Her father was always very protective of her. He reminded her of a mother bear. Since her mother passed away, he played the role of both parents in the house. It was poignant to see him enhance his cooking spells or sing her bedtime lullabies. This enforced his figure with great dignity in her life. He became the first man she ever loved.

"Father, I'll be fine," She reassured him, "I can do this on my own."

"But…"

"No buts. Take Sir Jecht back to his house and I'll give you a ring when I meet up with Tidus."

"Ok, becareful."

She gave a quick peck on the cheek and headed towards the stadium. It didn't encompass a lot of time. After all, the stadium was exhibited in the same district where she lived. The expansive area was fun to walk through. She enjoyed eyeing the different shops that would pop into view or the vibrant clothes the people of the district wore.

Pubs and bars loomed into view as she trekked closer to the stadium. This area flourished from tourism and was famous for the renowned beer, Hypello Shoopuff. Yuna didn't drink, but Tidus enjoyed the fermented beer. She hated it when he downed the drink in one go, only to experience his brain losing control of his senses. His slurred speech, after he became drunk, was absurd, with poorly formed sentences.

He often attended the pub for a few pints with his team mates after their trainings. Yuna prayed deep inside that he wasn't drunk. It would take a miracle to deliver him back to the apartment if his gait was clumsy.

She then noticed a flash of blond from a nearby pub. She recognised her husband huddled in a circle with a group of men and women, his team mates. This was easier for Yuna. She needn't head into the stadium to collect him.

Her heart rummaged against her rib cage as she treaded closer. It was almost three months since their wedding but Yuna had only met his team mates at the wedding reception. At the time, they were too drunk to speak with her. They appeared sober now. Hopefully they wouldn't judge her. She didn't want to embarrass Tidus in front of them.

Then, she stood frozen in her tracks. Tidus' arm snaked around another woman's waist. He was chatting jovially with her. Yuna watched, slightly detached from the scene. Coming from a village that regarded mixing of men and women sinful, she didn't mind the fact that Tidus attended pubs with his team mates. However, was it normal for them to touch each other? Perhaps this was viewed the norm in Zanarkand.

She remained rooted to her spot, eyeing the way they stared into each other's eyes, talking and laughing. Then Tidus threw his head back and hooted at one of their jokes. Yuna's temples tensed. A sharp pain struck through her head like electricity. Did she ever make Tidus laugh like that? She glanced at her feet nervously but looking back at Tidus, she was shocked to see the distance between him and the woman vanished. They were now locked in an embrace, kissing each other passionately.

Her heart shattered. Her eyes stung at the onset of tears but she didn't feel the urge to cry. Instead, her heart pounded angry blood to every corner of her extremities. Her hands clenched beside her. They shook vehemently and part of her wanted to rush towards her husband and slap him across the head. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. When she did, she was filled with disgust.

The world merged into a series of light rays around her as she ran towards nowhere. She ignored the people that she bumped into. She didn't know where she was heading. Her legs carried her against her will. Her heart screamed for more oxygen as tears pricked at her eyes. Her head was spinning.

Yuna stumbled to a steel railings beside the river. She grasped them, her chest heaving, her mouth taking large gulps of air. She glanced around her, unaware of her surroundings. The people that passed her watched her curiously. They no longer wore the lavish garments of the upper class. They were donned in rags and dust.

If her heart didn't twitch with sadness, she would have been frightened, but she was upset. She was irked. She was hurt. Yuna slid to her knees, her hands still grasping the railings and sobbed silently. Her arms were screaming for mercy but she clenched the metal bars tighter until her knuckles were ghostly pale.

Her forehead nestled into the cool steel, her tears mingled into the soft strands of her hair. She was falling slowly into oblivion. Confusion consumed her. All that lay before was dark, murky smoke, too thick to pass through, too dense to see the other side.

"I'm all alone," She whispered to no one particular.

Then, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

"It's okay," A deep male voice reassured her, "You are not alone."

She was hoisted back onto her feet gently but her mind was foggy. All she saw was a very tall man, with a burly exterior. His silver hair glimmered under Zanarkand's moon. The coat that hung over his shoulder swayed in the night breeze. His deep set eyes were shadowed by a bridged forehead.

Her senses fell back into her and she wiped her eyes with the hems of her sleeve. She wiped her nose too but he handed her an ivory handkerchief.

"Thank you…" She nodded gratefully at him, "I was lost…In more ways than one."

He patted her shoulder, towering over her like a giant. "The path you walked was bleak which is why I found you, child. I too have been lost once but someone helped me find my way back."

He sighed with nostalgia and she tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"I am Golbez," He offered, holding out a large hand for her to shake.

"Yuna," She replied, "I…Am sorry."

"For what?"

"For this. For…Crying and disturbing you from your travels."

Golbez let out a hearty laugh, "I was only heading towards the Phantom Train."

Yuna gasped involuntarily, her hands over her mouth and eyes wide with astonishment.

The Phantom Train was a mysterious vehicle that was said to have changed the fate of those who boarded it, for better or for worse. However, it was true that over time, the passengers dwelled in a monstrous fate that they couldn't escape. Those who rode the train were miserable souls who faced trauma in their lives and succumbed to sorrow. Her father admonished these victims. He deemed it better that they seek forgiveness from God, rather than ride a train with no logical measures.

He thought the train belonged to the devil. No one knew where it came from or where it headed to.

"Yuna, why do you stare at me so?" Golbez asked, shrugging at her.

"B-but, the Phantom Train is supposed to be dangerous. Why do you take it?" She stammered.

"For painting classes," He said nonchalantly, only increasing her apprehension.

"Painting?" She worded, "Someone teaches painting on the Phantom Train?"

"Of course, his posters were evident all throughout this district."

His words only reminded her of the commotion in her head. She hadn't paid attention to her surroundings. Yuna stared at her shoes in dismay but Golbez was quick to understand her thoughts.

"It matters not. Would you like to join?"

"J-join!?"

She glanced at him as if he mentioned something utterly blasphemous. Her expression earned her another low chuckle from the old man.

"Contrary to popular beliefs, the Phantom Train is a mercy for lost souls. I have found home inside its carriage."

Yuna tried to talk but her words rolled over her tongue and vanished in the nightly breeze. The wind whipped at the strands of her hair. She too, felt like a lost soul, searching for home. She never blended into the city of Zanarkand. She was the flower that grew in the wrong field.

"When is it?" She asked him.

Golbez rubbed his chin, as if forcing him to recall, "Let's see…Today is Tuesday…The Phantom Train drops by the main station every weekday at midnight, but not on the weekends. The painting classes commence at the same time within the train."

"May I…Come tomorrow?"

That was all to be said. Golbez exchanged numbers with her. His chivalry outshined the moon, as he took her to the nearest bus station and made sure she got on the right bus back to her district.

When she arrived back in her apartment, it was past midnight. Tidus was waiting outside the door, his face etched with worry. The stink of alcohol surrounded him and only reminded Yuna of the incident that changed her views. She greeted him coldly.

At first, he didn't know that she regarded him with the coolness of frost. He slowly saw the change in her demeanour after they got ready for bed, and she took her pillow.

"Yuna, what's wrong?"

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?" She snapped at him harshly.

"What? Why are you acting like this?"

"Never mind take the bed." Her heart twisted inside her chest when she saw the hurt in his eyes, but she continued, "And I won't be leaving with you tomorrow. Father's diabetes is worse than before. I'm sorry."

Yuna stormed out of the room. He didn't go after her. She preferred it this way.

That night, she heard the wheels of the Phantom Train clicking against steel, and she dreamt of a ghostly face drinking the soup of her soul.


	2. Chapter 2

She never thought life was easy. She hated it when poets compared life to an old river, finding its course towards the sea. Oh no, life was not that peaceful. It was more like a young stream that meandered through sharp curves, fell in torrents over steep cliffs and eroded away the soil that it made contact with.

For all her time growing up, Lightning Farron wanted to believe that life would get easier. As a child, she thought life would settle down once she attends school, but it only grew tough. She anticipated that life would flourish after she finishes college, but the burden grew heavier. She waited patiently for her job in a military career. Still, peace slipped through her fingers like sand. Life was perpetually as tough as steel armour. She dragged herself in this battle between her fate and what she wanted to happen.

She hated her life. That was the mere truth. That was all to be said but the only reason she endured it was for her younger sister. Each year, her days grew harsher than the one before. She struggled to maintain her place in a world that was controlled by men.

"Captain Farron, you are early" A smooth voice greeted her as she entered the fray. It belonged to a tall man, with long silver hair, dressed in his neat military uniform.

She stood straighter, and saluted him. "General Sephiroth, you called me Sir?"

He chuckled and motioned her to join at a table with him. She followed, sharp eyes scrutinising his every move. Sephiroth offered her coffee, to which she refused. He swerved to the counter, preparing a large mug of capaccino for himself. Lightning sighed with frustration. She had work to attend to, but the General was languid.

"Your punctual records is one to be admired, one of the reasons why I wish to promote you," He began.

"Promotion?" She blurted, icy eyes widening at the prospect. She did her best not to leap out of her chair in shock.

Sephiroth took a gulp of his coffee slowly, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed it down. "Exactly as you heard it." He surveyed the way her mandibles were hanging open. "Why? Do you not wish to become General?"

Lightning blinked and shook her head. "No, no of course not – I mean, I do!" She paused, considering whether Sephiroth was toying with her mind or not. "It's just…I've only been here for eight years now."

"Which is a long time, I assure you," Sephiroth said nonchalantly, "You, were what? Seventeen years of age when you began?"

"Yes."

"Quite a young age to join the army, but your skills well surpass many of your peers. It is about time that someone takes my place as General in our base."

Lightning's eyes were now mere slits as she regarded him cautiously. "Take your place? Really?"

"Why, haven't you heard?" Sephiroth cocked his head to the side, his brows raised, "I will be promoted to Commander, now that Auron is retiring."

"Oh." She expected this of him. The man considered his skills above everyone else's. There was only one soldier who displayed the same set of skills as Sephiroth, but he had retired quite early.

"Do not think of this as a blessing, Farron," The silver haired soldier continued, his cat like eyes glimmering with mischief, "There is something you must do to show that you are the best man for this job." He then smirked slyly. "Sorry, should I say best woman?"

Lightning's right eye cringed but for once, she didn't express her anger. She was known for her harsh, and sometimes, brutal words. To be promoted as a General at such a young age meant that she could provide a better life for her sister, who was hoping to go to University in the coming year.

"What must I do?"

"Hmm…" Sephiroth slid away from the table and stood up from his chair. He walked around her, stepping in front of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. He stared at the misty world outside. "How should I explain this to you? I am not sure how you'd react."

He peered at her over his shoulder, sending shivers down her spine. Only Sephiroth had the power to make her cower in fear. The man possessed a frightening aura that earned him more slaves than friends.

_Spit it out already_, she wanted to say but held her tongue. She knew better than to argue with her superiors.

"There is one other soldier who will be competing with you. Auron and I are can't decide which one of you will be capable of this position," Sephiroth told her.

"Who is it?" Lightning said, daring to deepen the tone of her voice. He seemed to have been aware of her frustration.

"Is that all you want to know?" He chuckled, turning back to face her, "No questions on what we'll do to bring a conclusion to this dilemma or even suggestions that you are a better soldier?"

"If I should compete, then let me know who I'm up against," Lightning protested, standing from her chair.

"Zest Light of course, the one they title the Warrior of Light."

"Zest!?" The blonde haired female yelled in astonishment.

What did that man have that he was considered her equal in combat? He was old fashioned, and drawled heroic speeches that forced her to fall asleep. The others in the base seemed to admire his bland demeanour and his one dimensional personality, but Lightning didn't deem him the type of man to become a soldier.

"Yes, Zest," Sephiroth repeated, "Who respects you as you should him."

"But how could you even put us in the same league?" Lightning countered, not caring that she was ranting about one of her peers to her superior, "He's only become Captain a year ago."

"Is that a problem?" The General questioned, his stare forcing her glare towards the floor.

"No, but…I've been Captain for over three years now," She explained.

"That doesn't explain anything, Farron," The General interrupted her "We both have work to attend to, so you either agree to compete with Captain Light, or you remain as you are."

She didn't want to end the argument before it even began, but she had no choice. Sephiroth had thrown her in to the deep end. He expected her to swim her way to shore by herself. Glaring at his face with pure vexation, she nodded her approval. He gifted her with that sly grin again.

"Good. Now, you and Light must train two young men, who are a bit late in joining the army. Whoever trains the best man, shall become General of this base."

She snorted at his explanation, a bit too impulsively. His physiognomy shifted with ire. His green eyes burned a hole through her head. Lightning apologised and reluctantly yielded to his offer. She didn't think she deserved this, having to train a man just to prove that she deserved the promotion more than the Warrior of Light. How dare they thrust her into the battlefield with a man whose skills were not as sharp as hers?

Oh, she knew why. They didn't trust that a woman could handle the position of General. That was why they wanted to see her worth. They probably decided that in order to rate her capability, they would compare her to a rookie, just for their own sake. She will prove them wrong.

Sephiroth gave her today's work and told her that her assistant was waiting to meet her outside the building. She stomped her way out of the barracks, ignoring the praises from anyone she passed by. Instead, she greeted them with a frosty glare that sent them trembling back to their superiors.

Outside the barracks, tall black railings surrounded the fortress like a shield. Two gates in the front controlled who could enter and who could leave. She saluted a few superiors that were huddled in a group together upon seeing them.

"Captain Farron, 'tis a fine morning," One of her superiors said to her.

"I think it's too cold, General Cyan," She admitted, and he threw his head back, howling in laughter.

She ignored their snorts and chuckles, strolling away from them and towards the shivering figure beside the gates. He was dressed in military uniform, with a jumper that appeared too large for him. His unusual hair was silver, so minus one point for him, since Lightning had started to hate that colour. The front locks were tied with a colourful beaded bandanna, while a long thin tail of silver extended past his back. When his amber eyes met hers, he instantly gasped, looking elsewhere and twiddling his thumbs over each other.

She stopped in front him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her head slightly tilted to the side in a cruel attempt to intimidate him. Her attempts were awarded with a violent shudder that encompassed his body. She hadn't expected a man this old to be her assistant. He only appeared a few years younger than her.

"Don't tell me that you're supposed to be my assistant?" She started in a low, husky voice.

"I-I'm sorry if it upsets you," He said, and she snorted at him.

"I see," Lightning gazed at him up and down, "You seem fit enough for the training, your height is good, but you need to make eye contact more often. How else are you gonna communicate then?"

"Huh?" His eyes met hers again, and he watched her as if she was some sort of alien. He quickly glanced back at his combat boots. "Forgive me, I am a bit overwhelmed. I didn't expect that y-you would be my…" He gulped audibly, "My instructor."

"So they sent me a shrivelled _wild rose_," She whispered to herself, shaking her head in dismay. Sweet talk wouldn't strengthen this loser's resolve.

"What's your name?" Lightning snapped at him, and he almost jumped in his spot. "I asked you a question soldier! I expect a response."

"I-I'm…I'm…" He was nervous, to the point where she imagined he'll bite his fingernails off.

She felt a fuse blow somewhere in the back of her mind. "Enough stammering, you useless excuse for a soldier. What's your _name!_?"

"Firion!" He screamed, and then regained composure, "It's Firion."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" She queried, motioning him to follow her back to the barracks.

He staggered after her, staring at her in disbelief. He almost tripped over his own feet, in an attempt to pace up with her quick gait. "I apologise again."

"Enough with the apologies already," Lightning whisked around to face him, her brows furrowed together, "There are a few rules that you must abide to, if you want to survive."

"S-survive?" Firion's eyes grew larger on his face.

"Yes, first thing's first, you must _always_ be on time, and I can't stress that enough. If you're late, you will face consequences, got that?"

"Affirmative, Captain Farron." He stood straight, and brought his hand to his forehead in a poor attempt at a salute.

She sneered, grabbing his hand, adjusting his fingers in the proper position for the salute. His face exploded with crimson embarrassment when she stepped away.

"Secondly," Lightning continued, ignoring his blushing cheeks, "Get rid of that rag on your head. It's an eye sore. I'll get epilepsy if I stare at it too long."

"Huh?" Firion blinked innocently before pointing at his bandanna, "But…My mother…"

"A mama's boy, have we?" She spat, and he flinched, grabbing his bandanna and tearing it off. She smirked mirthlessly at him. "Good, and thirdly, I hate slackers when it comes to training. You know the deal if you get sloppy."

"I do?" He asked, his features radiating with genuine confusion.

"You can imagine you do," She said darkly, and she could have heard him mewl in terror, "Now, any questions?"

He opened his mouth but it shut again. He then cleared his throat and plucked up the courage to ask. "Are we starting today?" Firion almost jumped again when she bared her teeth like a wolf, "I meant, Captain Light isn't starting today…And I promised a friend that I'll meet her later on."

Lightning grabbed his collars and pulled him closer so she could glare into his eyes. He almost lost consciousness there.

"I am not like Captain _Light_, you hear that?" She pushed him away, "And don't expect this to be like high school either. You can't leave this place. Ever."

He looked like a frightened rabbit, escaping from his predator but Lightning didn't sympathise with him.

"But, Captain Farron. Please, just this once? Yuna will be waiting for me, and I can't let her wait by her own. Her father-He's a priest. I know this is silly of me to say, but he expects me to look out for her."

Only one word caught Lightning's attention, or rather, a name. Could this be the same person? The long lost friend? In the far distance, she heard the waves lapping on the shores of her beloved childhood home, and the palm trees danced in the summer's breeze.

"Yuna?"

:::::::::::::::

Yuna took a seat inside the Seventh Heaven restaurant. The tables were empty since the place just opened now for orders. She had grown attached to Tifa, the bartender. The latter controlled all the commotion in the basement, where the bar was. She was kind and quite easy to talk to but her busy hours rendered her unable to meet Yuna outside Seventh Heaven. Otherwise, Yuna longed for a friend she could confide with, a trusted soul she could pour out her secrets to.

That was one reason why she asked Tidus' best friend to meet her. Firion was a decent man of twenty one years. He was kind and polite, traits that instantly attracted the attention of women. However, Firion was unfortunate to suffer from one weakness in his life: women. He was timid and couldn't form sentences when he first met Yuna, but six months since the wedding, he had grown accustomed to having her around. He was the older brother that she never had. Despite being a close child hood friend of Tidus, Yuna found that she could trust him with any secret. Even if it meant degrading Tidus' image.

She grasped the laminated page of a menu and scanned through it. Half an hour had passed but there was no sign of Firion. She forgot about his first day at the army barracks, silently berating herself for disturbing him at such an important time. Her heart had bled when Tidus left early morning, without even a farewell. She was woken by the blinding light of the afternoon, still on the couch. Distraught as she was, she spoke with Firion over the phone, forcing her voice to remain calm. Then, she threw on a sleeveless sky blue dress that trailed past her knees, and fluttered like a curtain in the breeze.

Her friend soon appeared around the corner, his infamous bandanna missing from his crown. He was still dressed in his military uniform, the jacket being too large for him. It gave the false impression that he carried a pot belly from front view. Yuna stifled a giggle at the thought. When he approached closer, she noticed the sheen of sweat on his tanned skin.

Firion pulled a chair away and slouched down onto it.

"Yuna," He began breathlessly, "Forgive me for taking such a long time."

"No, please," She interjected hastily, shaking her head, "I am sorry for disturbing you. I had forgotten…About your training. How was your first day?"

His pupils dilated and his features contorted with agony and terror. She needn't ask him any further so they avoided speaking about that topic again. Instead, they ordered their favourite dish in the restaurant, One Winged Angel. The infamous dish that hailed from Midgar consisted of spicy noodles served with fish broth and egg fried tiger prawns. It was further decorated with boiled seaweed and tofu. The aroma sent anyone's stomach grumbling with desire.

Firion devoured down on the noodles as soon as the waiter brought in the plates, while Yuna preferred one noodle piece at a time. She picked away at the crispy coatings of the prawns, contemplating whether to bring up last night's incident during their conversation.

"This," Firion spoke with his mouth full, swallowing down half eaten food, "Is eternal bliss."

"Yes," Yuna agreed with a bemused smile, but it vanished as she remembered how much Tidus had loved this dish as well.

A sudden pain pierced her heart when she remembered how hurt he seemed last night. She wished to take back her words. If only she could have snatched them before they left her mouth and threw them out from the window, but no. Her words had shot through him, before floating to the stars and falling onto the tracks of the Phantom Train.

The Phantom Train, of course, she thought. She couldn't attend the painting classes without a friend by her side. Truth be told, she was afraid to roam the magnificent city late at night. Her father certainly will not approve of her plan either. He hated the Phantom Train with a passion.

"Yuna?" Firion's voice pulled her back out of her thoughts. He was eyeing her with concern.

"Yes?" She blinked at him.

"You're crying," He stated, his finger pointing at his cheek bone.

"Huh?" Yuna wiped her cheek. It was wet. She had indeed been crying without knowing it. "I'm sorry…"

"Yuna, what's wrong?" Firion put down his metal chopsticks, and leaned forward, "Why didn't you leave with Tidus? He told me both of you were going to the Crystal Cup Tournament."

At the mention of Tidus' name and Firion's sympathy, tears slid down her cheeks. Her mouth trembled in an attempt not to sob. There was a knot in her throat that pained when she opened her mouth to speak.

"I-I…He…We just…" She began, but her words were broken hiccups.

Firion's large hand enveloped hers from across the table.

"Sshh, it's okay," He soothed, "Just take a deep breath, and then tell me."

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I saw him kissing someone else yesterday and then…I am so sorry! I got mad, and then…And then I told him I didn't want to go."

Firion's eyes darted everywhere but at her. He jittered nervously in his chair, his hand leaving hers. His lips puckered in, his head hung low. He mumbled to himself. Yuna felt her heart sink into her stomach. She had never wanted to drag Firion into the middle of this. She condemned herself for getting Firion involved.

"Tidus! That idiot! I won't let him off when he gets back," He glanced back at Yuna, "Yuna, please forgive me. I should have told you earlier."

Yuna gasped, her hands clasping together. "You mean…This has been going on for a while?"

Her friend almost cowered into his chair and a pink hue danced across his cheeks. "Yuna, I thought he stopped seeing her. I mean, he even promised me, but listen-"

His words melted into the atmosphere. Her head was spinning with the information again. The room reeled around her. Tidus had been cheating on her. She hadn't known. For days they had shared the same bed. She had fulfilled his every need. She was a virtuous wife for him. She loved him. She had given him access to her soul.

She suddenly felt dirty and wanted nothing more than to tear her skin from her skeleton. Firion's blurry face re-entered her vision.

"Firion…" She whispered, her voice shaking with anger and pain, "It's not your fault."

"I'm just…So sorry," Firon gazed at the floor again, twiddling his thumbs over and over, while his elbows rested on the table. "But look, this is only a phase. He'll realise his mistake once I beat some sense into him."

"Will he?" Yuna questioned, and he opened his mouth wordlessly, "I was sleeping with a man, who was cheating on me. Do you even know who my father is, Firion?"

"Umh…High Priest Braska?"

"Exactly…He's a priest. He gave me to Tidus because he trusted him," Her voice broke and she continued through sobs, "If he finds out, he will…"

She didn't want to finish her spoken thoughts. Her father was scarier than a thunderstorm when he was angry. He was a calm man, but when irked, he was destructive. He was storm, but there was no eye in that storm. She was afraid if his anger would degenerate his health. Tidus had promised him that he would never commit adultery. He broke that promise.

"Please trust me, I'll do something," Firion suggested, "I promise."

"Oh…" She didn't know what to say. She was afraid of the future. Were all young men this immature? Did they all break their promises? No, she couldn't allow Tidus' incident to take over her life. She was subservient, but to the point where others could use her. Her heart argued that Tidus loved her, but her mind refused to accept him for his sin.

"In the meantime, is there anything else that I could do?" Her friend said.

"Yes," She said, her voice more determined than ever before, "I am joining painting classes on the Phantom Train on midnight…Could you please accompany me?"

Firion was almost thrown out of his chair. His eyes were wide with disbelief as he grabbed the edges of his seat to prevent it from toppling over. He choked on his soup, some spilled through his nostrils, and Yuna panicked. She handed him a glass of water with shaking hands.

When he regained composure, Firion finally spoke, "T-the Phantom Train? Yuna, that's dangerous!"

"But how?" She challenged, "I have heard that it's…A home for lost souls."

He snorted at her but cleared his throat. "Where did you hear that?"

"From…Someone. I don't know! I just know that I want to go to those painting classes."

"Yuna, there are other painting classes you can find, you know, during the _day_?"

"No! I want…I want to ride the Phantom Train! Please come with me!"

Firion sighed, and rubbed his temples. His amber eyes were hidden behind his lids. "To be honest…I do not wish to ride it. It's supposed to ruin the lives of those that get on."

"But…Then who would go with me?" Yuna pleaded, grabbing the hem of the table cloth and grasping it until her knuckles were white.

"You really want to go, don't you?" He asked her, with a look of admiration. Her resolve had always won the admiration of others.

"Yes."

"You might need to ask someone who is less superstitious."

"Like who? Would you…Help me out?"

"_Aggh_," Firion sighed with evident frustration, "Yuna, I'd be in big trouble if I help you! What would your father say if he finds out?"

"But Firion, he won't find out," She reassured him.

He watched her curiously for a while. "Okay…I could ask my instructor. She's…Very cynical of everything."

Yuna beamed at him, and encouraged him to continue.

"Actually, this reminds me. I think she knows you," He told her.

"Really? I don't think…I've ever talked with anyone from the barracks," She admitted, thinking deeply on his words. No woman in the army was a friend of hers, though she admired women that gave their life for protecting others.

"Her name is Lightning, if that helps."

"Lightning…Nope, I do not know her but she sounds nice."

"Oh, she's not _nice_. Trust me."

"Firon! How could you say that about your own instructor? She will do!"

"Man, I'll never forgive myself for this," Firion mumbled to himself, before pulling out his phone, and dialling a number.

A rough, deep voice answered at the other end of the line. "_What is it now, rag head?"_

::::::::::::::::

To Yuna, Lightning was quite tall for a woman, and her blonde hair was so fluffy, undulating in glossy curls over one shoulder while some spikey locks fell into her eyes. She was tight-lipped, toned arms crossed over her chest, and long athletic legs helped keep her posture straight. It was not her gym figure that was intimidating though.

It was the piercing blue gaze of her eyes. They were a frosty blue, and held an unsteady blizzard within them.

She had waited for Yuna outside the apartment, in her brilliant blue Mercedes car. Firion had warned Yuna beforehand that Captain Farron was a scary, emotionless woman. However, he was half right.

Lightning was curt when she talked, but Yuna imagined that this was customary for her. In fact, she gave a rare smile during their conversations, and she listened to Yuna's story with hidden sentimentality. Her eyes burned with a sense of nostalgia, and sometimes, she would stare at Yuna peculiarly, as if she possessed a secret that was warmer than her cold personality.

The captain listened more and talked less. She broke Yuna's train of speech with curious questions about her past. Yuna didn't mention much, apart from the fact that she moved with Tidus to the glorious city of Zanarkand.

The car came to a halt outside the main station. Lightning parked close to the entrance.

Stepping out into the chilly air, the weight of Yuna's decision penetrated deep into her skin. A misty fog surrounded the train tracks beyond the station. In the hazy horizon, the soft silhouettes of giant trees faded with the darkness. The stars were blurred behind the thick veil of sandy mist.

She hesitated, her hand still over the door handle of Lightning's car. Her heart skipped a beat. This was the moment she had been dreaming of since last night, but the passion and determination had long vanished. Instead, an unwonted foreboding clung to the air.

"What's wrong?" Lightning's low voice cut through her thoughts.

Yuna glanced at her with a reassuring smile. "It's…Nothing."

"Don't waste time. Head on inside, or else we'll miss the train."

Miss the Phantom Train, Yuna wanted to correct her. This was the vehicle that many feared to ride. People avoided boarding it, yet here she was, standing in the midst of an insidious fog, and awaiting the arrival of the mysterious train.

She followed Lightning into the station, the heels of her boots clicking against the concrete. To her surprise, the station was empty. A few couples were taking comfort in a coffee shop, and few stragglers were helping themselves in a book shop to her left.

"Here," Lightning motioned her to a large screen that hung over them. It listed the times and destinations of imminent trains in neon red. Yuna scanned the list of names, but her eyes glued to one name only.

The Phantom Train, it read.

Time: 00.00 Platform: 1

Destination: Unknown.

"Platform one is up ahead," Lightning pointed out, nodding towards the fray at the other open end of the station.

"Oh," Yuna said, mesmerized.

It wasn't too late to turn back. Her heart hammered inside her chest. She could stop here. She didn't have to move on forward.

Then, she heard a familiar voice call her name. The source belonged to that of a tall and burlesque man. It was Golbez. He walked so elegantly towards her that his feet could have easily been floating above the ground. He was dressed again in a dark blouse with matching trousers. His coat hung over his shoulders like a cape once again.

There was another person with him. It didn't take Yuna too long to recognise the unruly bright blond hair, sour expression and strong arms. She stopped herself from gasping his name. His callous blue eyes glared at her. It was Cloud Strife, the ex-soldier. His hands were hidden inside the pockets of his grey sweatpants. He shivered in the misty coldness, despite donning a thick pine green hoody

"I see you have made it," Golbez said with a soft chuckle, "It is good to see you again. This is Cloud. Cloud, this lovely lady is Yuna."

"Hmph," Cloud grunted in response. He clearly didn't want to rectify the fact that they were not strangers.

Yuna pretended that this was their first meeting too. Cloud was an enigma to her. The man never talked. He never had any friends. He merely delivered food to her doorstep. Tidus often offered him to join them for dinner, but the quiescent man would turn them down with a surly grimace.

"Nice to meet you," Yuna started awkwardly.

"Cloud?" Lightning said with a derisive snort, "Didn't think I'd see you again."

"Lightning," Cloud acknowledged with a nod. He avoided staring at her again.

For a moment, the barrier that shielded his emotions gave way, and Yuna could make out pain, and anger. His frown deepened down his chin. She had the sudden urge to embrace him. Then again, she wanted to embrace anyone who carried such heavy burdens on their shoulders. As soon as it appeared, his emotions were swiftly washed away with cool stillness.

"Lightning," Golbez hummed, rubbing his chin with his palm, "A befitting name for a woman such as you."

"Please spare me the poetry," Lightning muttered, rolling her eyes.

Golbez was unfazed by her rude display. He clapped his hands, pointing at platform one. The four group of people walked their way over. For Yuna, she could have bungled at every step towards the platform.

A solitary street light shone over a bench. They seated themselves on the bench. Golbez stood beside them, since his broad stature was too large to join them. It was more difficult since Cloud squatted himself at one corner, away from the girls as if they carried disease.

Yuna crinkled her nose at him, contemplating why Tidus ever asked him to eat with them. Tidus had told her that if he should die, Cloud would be the best man for her. Yuna would slap him upside the head. He would cackle at her flushed face.

The pang of nostalgia cut deep inside her. She missed Tidus, despite what he did. She longed to feel his arms around her once again. Subconsciously, she hugged herself, staring at the tips of her shoes in deep concentration. The hair on the back of her neck pricked at her skin, and she glanced at Cloud, who was watching her with a gaze too horrific for her meek soul. To her relief, he quickly looked away and Yuna wiped away the beads of perspiration on her forehead.

"What's wrong?" Lightning asked her.

Yuna faced her, surprised that the military officer cared to ask her. "Nothing."

"Oh?" Lightning raised a perfectly trimmed brow. "Has anyone ever told you, that you're a bad liar?"

"W-what?" Yuna's cheeks flushed with heat. "N-no!"

It was true. As much as she tried to lie, it was to no avail. Everyone agreed that her lying skills were worse than her cooking skills. She only met Lightning for a couple of hours, and the woman was sharp enough to pick up her poor lying abilities.

"Right, I believe you," Lightning quipped sarcastically.

"Ladies, forgive me for interrupting," Golbez joined the conversation, "But is this your first time on the Phantom Train?"

"Yes," Yuna nodded her head.

"It'll be my first, and hopefully last," Lightning said solemnly, but earned a laugh off Golbez.

"Well the young man who runs the painting classes is too enticing," The moon-like man explained, "He has the personality of a true wanderer."

"I have no idea why I opted to do this," Lightning sighed, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers.

Her response caused Yuna's stomach to churn with discomfort. She didn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable because of her.

Lightning suddenly looked at her, with almost a _guilty_ look. Her expression intrigued the younger woman. Lightning, according to Firion, was mean, nasty and hated everything and everyone, yet why did she appear to control her anger towards Yuna?

"Sorry, don't take it personally," The blonde told Yuna. There was firm truth in her words. "I'm not much of a painter, that's all."

A wave of relief washed over Yuna from that moment on, but also stimulated her giggles. She stifled her laughter, to no success. Lightning sighed again, leaning back into the chair and crossing her arms, one leg propped over the other.

"A person who cannot paint," Golbez started, staring into the foggy sky, "Yet is joining painting classes. This is quite intriguing."

"It's not," Lightning corrected him, "Stop beating around the bush. What you mean to say, is, that it's _stupid._"

"Really? But…You might be better than you think," Yuna offered shyly.

She heard Cloud grunt in the back. It was possibly his way of laughing, but she couldn't imagine him do that. He rarely laughed, he couldn't even smile. His smiles were like someone grimacing at a dentist when they were about to receive an injection to their gum. His smiles were upside down, giving him a perpetual surly look.

"_Sure_, wait till you see," Lightning murmured, but she stopped, glancing in the distance where a bright light gleamed like the sun.

The light was travelling closer, growing bigger and brighter. The tracks were singing in tune with wheels. A hazy, euphonious whistle ripped through the air.

There was more smoke in the back. Yuna's heart was beating faster than before. She held a clenched fist against her chest in order to ease the rapid rhythm. It was unsuccessful. She knew the Phantom Train was approaching. There was silence all around her. The only sounds that struck belonged to the wheels of the Phantom Train.

A scratchy metal silhouette of the train stopped before them, blurry amongst the thick fog. It was a train that she'd seen in photographs of the olden times, with a sprout at the front which spewed out smoke. Its doors opened, awaiting all to enter.

Cloud hopped to his feet, being the first one to enter the train. He didn't even give them a second glance. Lightning was scrutinizing the train with a cynical expression. She didn't look reluctant, rather weary of what might be lurking inside its carriages.

"So this is the infamous Phantom Train," She said, appearing unimpressed.

"Shall we?" Golbez called to her, and they entered the train together.

Yuna remained out, still deciding whether to enter or not. The train's eerie silhouette left her legs trembling. She could have easily fallen to the floor. If her foot slid over the threshold, she could never look back. That was the amusing thing about time, it gives and then takes back what it gave.

She edged closer cautiously, peering at the unexpected brightness from within. It was too bright to distinguish what lay inside. She was afraid, she concluded. She backed away. She couldn't step out of line.

When she got ready to leave, a voice caused her to turn back.

"Are you joining us?" It belonged that of a young man, with sun-kissed brown hair and hazel-blue eyes.

His face held a soft sunny smile, one that reminded her of sunflowers dancing in the breeze. He was slim, athletic, and kind, but it was his face that drew in her attention. She ogled at the softness of his skin, the sharp curve of his cheekbones and the strong angles of his jaw. It was a face that could have easily been carved by Botticelli.

When she opened her mouth to speak, no words escaped. It was as if the words lost their way into the fog. His smile grew wider and he hopped off, holding his hand out.

"Will I take that for a yes?" He chuckled, but she was still speechless, staring into his palm now.

This was a sin, she told herself. She was Tidus' wife! She couldn't stare at another man, and fantasise over him. She must refrain herself, recompose her emotions, and leave. However, the young man's bright smile was too difficult to look away from. It was blinding.

She was staring up at him, her head could have easily fitted perfectly against his shoulder. He was slightly taller than Tidus, she noticed, yet not as muscular. Then, she mentally slapped herself. She regarded herself as the type of person who would never compare the physical attributes of people, men for that matter.

"_Okay…_" He continued, walking his way back to the train, and climbing over board, "It was nice to-"

"I'm Yuna!" She blurted, and he peered at her over his shoulder.

She ran up towards him, grasping his hand to shake it. He was mesmerized at first but returned her hand shake enthusiastically.

"And I'm Bartz!"

She was so close, she could have drowned inside the cerulean pools of his eyes. His scent filled her nostrils. He smelt like the wind against palm trees and sea spray, like her homeland, like her heart.

In the hazy stillness, she heard the Phantom Train release a deep, low noise, as if it was laughing at her fate.


	3. Chapter 3

He had held her hand and helped her climb aboard the Phantom Train. Her eyes were glued to him. He was like a magnet, compelling her towards him, like gravity pulling her in. She couldn't help but take in his breezy scent. She longed to snuggle against his coat, and breathe him in, and inhale the scent that reminded her of home.

The Phantom Train bore walls of crimson, with a matching velvet red carpet. Blue, old-fashioned seats were lined neatly in the carriage. The seats held a metal headstand, with intricate carvings and filigreed texture. As the train took off to its next stop, Yuna could see the mist swirling against the windows, finger-like streaks twisting over each other.

The experience was surreal to her. It was as if she was floating inside a dream, one with no particular meaning. The hazy, bizarre atmosphere drawled over her. She pinched her cheek, it stung. It couldn't have been a dream, but it contained all the features of one.

"Is this your first painting class?" Bartz asked her, looking down at her with a gentle smile. She could only nod, speechless.

He clasped his hands together enthusiastically, his grin growing wider on his face. "Excellent! The more the merrier."

"…Thank you," She told him, for no particular reason at all. His aura soothed her nervousness from earlier. The Phantom Train was no longer menacing now that his presence ruled her vision.

"Huh?" He perked a brow, "For what?"

"For having me."

"Ah, no. Thank _you_ for coming here. Take a seat anywhere. There's one more stop before we start the lesson."

Meekly, Yuna paved her way to where Lightning sat. Golbez sat opposite him, smiling softly at them. Lightning was unimpressed. She was eyeing the interior as if it was covered in slime, grimacing all the while. There were canvas stands in front of them, separating them from Golbez. He was sitting alone, Yuna noticed, so she glanced around the carriage for Cloud.

The ex-soldier had seated himself further away, alone in a corner. His elbow rested along the pane of the window, his fingers pressed into his cheek. His eyes were staring ahead, at some memory that he couldn't grasp.

"Cloud doesn't sit with you?" Yuna turned to Golbez, who was already separating paints onto a large ivory palette.

"There is usually someone else that he waits for," He explained, examining the paint that slipped onto his thumb.

Lightning let out a derisive snort. "He was always such a pansy."

Yuna's eyes widened with shock. How could Lightning freely express herself about another soldier? They must have known each other in the past, but she wasn't genial about his status. Lightning caught her stare, her smirk faltering. She sighed, running her gloved hand through her silky blonde strands.

"I used to work with Cloud back in Midgar," She said, her icy eyes surveying the ex-soldier far away, "You might'nt believe me when I say this, but he was happy over there."

The urge to embrace Cloud struck Yuna again. Sometimes, she loathed her maternal instincts, but she wanted to see everyone smile. Life was too precious to hide from. Time was too valuable to brood over.

"We could…Call him over to join us," She suggested, earning another scornful chuckle from Lightning.

"Doubt he will," Lightning waved a hand in the air, as if to dismiss her offer.

"I have tried many times," Golbez proposed, setting his palette aside, "But he is a reclusive man, who speaks with but one person on this train."

"Bartz?" Yuna questioned but to her astonishment, Golbez shook his head.

"No, not even Bartz's bright spirits could penetrate that man's soul," He then stared at Cloud, who was oblivious of their conversation, and of the world, "That man had fallen into the darkest pits of hell. Time cannot heal him alone. He must first learn to forgive himself. Only then can he climb back up."

Lightning grunted at his response, clearly annoyed with Golbez's judicious speech. She crossed her arms, watching the train reel through an endless misty forest. Yuna drank in Golbe'z words. Her heart reached out to Cloud.

How could she have not seen the pain in his eyes? There were moments when his dark exterior dissipated to reveal an anguished soul. He needed help, humane compassion, but like all humans, he refused to share his emotions with anyone.

She saw Bartz stroll his way over to Cloud, chatting with the morose delivery man animatedly. His arms akimbo, and his eyes squinting with laughter, Bartz managed to extrude a few words out of the usually silent Cloud Strife. For a brief moment, the ghost of a smile flitted across Cloud's lips.

"He's very nice," She said absentmindedly.

"Cloud is not _nice_," Lightning hissed, "He's just another sore loser."

Golbez chuckled, "I think she meant Bartz."

"Oh," The blonde blinked the shook her head to erase her absurd outburst, "He doesn't seem to have a care in the world, huh?"

"Far from it," Her moonlike companion laughed, "He's a free soul. No earthly chains ensnare him."

Of course, Yuna thought to herself. Bartz must have also lived a sheltered life, loved dearly by both parents. The harsh tentacles of sadness hadn't squeezed him. His happiness hadn't been tainted by the sorrow of death, or losing a parent, as Yuna had.

She thought of her mother, an atheist who married her father. Despite their religious beliefs, they expressed a love that transcended boundaries and faith. They were the ultimate example to her, and she longed to honour her mother's memory. Bartz obviously had the perfect life right now, with both parents supporting him, since he sported a personality brighter than the sun.

"Do you write poetry or something?" Lightning quipped through gritted teeth, "Cut the poetic crap, _please._"

"But…I like his poetic words," Yuna interjected, and Golbez let out another low chuckle.

"I hate his poetry as well," A foreign voice intruded their conversation.

They faced a stern man, with dirty blond hair that was tousled and unruly. He was unshaven, eyebrows perpetually furrowed together, creating a crease above the bridge of his nose. His eyes were squinting with undeniable anger. Yuna couldn't guess if this was customary for him, or if he simply hated them for existing.

He stood from his seat, which was across from them, and trudged his way over in his bemired boots. His grey shirt was missing a few buttons, and was carelessly stuffed into his trousers. Yuna hadn't noticed him before. It was as if he appeared out of thin air. Perhaps, he got on a stop before them.

"Nice entrance," Lightning quipped at him, rolling her eyes, and muttered, "Great, now I'm stuck with an idiot who thinks he can rhyme, a delivery pansy, and someone who escaped from the asylum."

Yuna noted that Lightning had excluded her and Bartz from the complaint.

"You cannot judge me!" The unruly man remarked, teeth bared like a feral creature.

"Gabranth, no one here judges you, but yourself," Golbez admonished him.

"You can't imagine the pain that I've suffered!" Gabranth hollered, his voice quivering from sadness or ire, Yuna couldn't tell.

"Right…A psycho riff-raff," Lightning sighed, rubbing her temples, "Someone please remind me why I came here." She then snapped out of her harsh mannerisms, and glanced at Yuna apologetically.

Yuna gave her a reassuring smile. Then she realised that another man sat from across the conversation breaker. His dark brown hair and piercing cerulean eyes reminded her of Bartz, but a more sadistic version of the latter. He could have been his relative, for all Yuna knew. The Bartz clone tilted his head, and that was when she noticed the scar that cut deep from the edge of his left eye, and up the bridge of his nose.

"Lightning?" The newcomer, or rather new person that recently existed in her perspective, stated.

"Squall Leonhart," The blonde soldier acknowledged through gritted teeth, "_Boy_, something tells me that is gonna be a _long _night."

"Didn't think you'd be into painting," Squall jeered at her with a sardonic grin.

"Funny," Lightning laughed mirthlessly, "I was about to say the same about you." Squall's grin faded.

"It's nice to meet you too," Yuna interrupted, hoping that she could remind them that she existed.

"Whatever," Squall murmured rolling his eyes, striking a chord within her heart. His remark was so insulting, she couldn't understand why he'd address her in such a way. Then again, he reminded her of Lightning, who was also that rude.

The only difference being was Lightning actually refrained herself from spewing her insults towards Yuna. It was as if she was careful not to hurt the girl.

"You…Are not very nice," Yuna stammered, and Squall raised his brows until they vanished into his dark strands, "You…You shouldn't be so mean, if someone is trying to talk with you."

"Like I care," Squall cut in, "If you want to talk, then go talk to a wall."

"Squall!" Bartz had skittered his way over to them, "Watch your mouth."

"That is no way to address a lady," Golbez reproved Squall with a stern expression.

"Or next time, you can talk to my fist!" Lightning hissed, raising the said fist towards the younger man.

There was no hint of regret in Squall's lazy blue eyes. He rolled them again, and scoffed, "There's no need to get so worked up. Stop ganging up on me."

When the crowd backed away, Yuna avoided eye contact with Squall. She could almost feel his piercing eyes burning a hole through her head. She concluded that she disliked the taciturn man. His comments were harsh, making her bow her head with inferiority.

She heard Bartz argue with Squall in the background. She wasn't one to eavesdrop but found herself straining her ears to hear them out.

"Come on, what did I say about being nice to people?" He remarked, disapproval evident in his tone.

"What? Are all of you her guardians or something? She can stand up for herself, you know," Squall backlashed indolently.

"Yeah, but remember what happened to Quistis?" Bartz reminded him, "Don't deny that you scared her off."

"It could have been the Phantom Train."

"_Squall_! Perk up sometimes, okay? You gotta stop scaring off newcomers."

"Are you okay?" Lightning's voice pulled her back to reality.

She met Lightning's apprehensive gaze, and nodded. "I'll be fine."

It was rare that she met a man, or anyone, that challenged her mentally. She had lived a sheltered life, with people who knew nothing but kindness in her little village. Her sudden encounter with Squall left her heart beating with inexpugnable anxiety. She would tense whenever she caught him glare, and shrivel up like a flower in the wind. He must have been brought up in of those areas that reared hooligans.

"That punk's got attitude," Lightning told her, "Don't mind him too much. He thinks he's cool but he's been a jerk from the get go."

Yuna swallowed the knot in her throat, nodding again to reassure the blonde that she was fine. However, she didn't feel fine. She wasn't at ease now, as the Phantom Train slowed to a halt towards its next stop.

Bartz instantly jogged to the carriage door, stepping out to greet his students. He returned with two new figures by his side. One belonged to that of a girl with a doll like face. Her large eyes were always cast to the floor. She pushed back her light blonde hair, which was tied with a fancy red ribbon and beads. She was very skinny, to the extent where it made Yuna think she was under fifteen years of age, but her features told otherwise.

The second person was but a young boy, with unruly ginger hair spiking out from a red cap. He was still dressed in a burgundy school sweater and grey pants. His tie was undone, one end trailing down to his waist. He carried his rucksack over one shoulder, eyeing everyone with a sly expression.

"We got two new lassies joining us today," Bartz told them boisterously, "Ladies meet Yuna and Lightning."

"Hey! Quit picking on me! I'm a man," The boy groused, reaching to give Bartz a punch across his arm.

"Ow!" The painter cried, rubbing the sore area, "I was only messing!"

"Amusing," Lightning added, though she was not amused by the whole situation.

"Right…Yuna, Lightning, this is Terra" Bartz introduced the timid blonde girl, "And this brat here is Luneth, but we like to call him Onion."

Yuna let out an impulsive giggle. The boy appeared distraught and opened his mouth to talk but Squall interrupted him with a snide remark about onions and stinky feet. Luneth growled, waddling his way towards Cloud, while making sure that Squall's canvas stand was knocked to the floor. He accidentally whacked Gabranth's canvas stand with his rucksack instead.

"Why do you hate me so?" The unruly man exclaimed, glaring daggers at Luneth, whose cheeks were red with shame.

Terra greeted both Yuna and Lightning with a faint smile, before she too glided her way towards Cloud. Her feet bounced softly against the carpet, creating no sound. Cloud had a glint of a spark in his cold eyes upon seeing her. He straightened himself in his chair, greeting Terra with a smile. Yuna's eyes widened with shock.

Did she just witness Cloud smile? It wasn't the grimace sort of smile that he often gifted her with, but it was genuine, and dare she say, caring. Who knew that Cloud was actually capable of feeling such emotions? Otherwise, he was a just another empty vase. Terra seated herself beside him. They were chatting, which only increased Yuna's shock.

Cloud was keeping up a conversation. He was the man who spoke nothing, but here he was, speaking with a girl as if she was his long lost childhood friend. Terra must have been the person Golbez had mentioned earlier. Luneth, on the other hand, glared at the ex-soldier, despite sitting opposite him.

Bartz cleared his throat at the end of the carriage to catch everyone's attention. His canvas and stand were prepared, as was his painting palette. Dollops of different oil paint colours aligned the canvas. His took the palette in one hand, and a stout paintbrush in the other. Yuna watched in awe as he gracefully dabbed the large paintbrush into a jar of water. Once the bristles were moist, he washed his canvas with a light aquamarine hue.

"Tonight, we're gonna try and create a perfect tree," He started, stepping away from his canvas and grinning with the same smile that threatened to make her swoon.

"Question!" Luneth raised his hand, "Why a tree?"

"Because…"Bartz's eyes narrowed in scrutiny and he rubbed his chin with his fingers, "Uh…Slipped my mind just there."

"Isn't it got to do with that tree you planted in the Great Forest of Moore?" Squall called out.

A flicker or recognition flashed through Bartz's features and he clicked his fingers. "Oh yeah! Thanks Squall!" He then crossed his arms, brows furrowed with apprehension, "But that tree looks so evil now. I want us to paint a happy tree, not an evil one."

Luneth let out a facetious snort. "How could a tree look evil? That's just illogical and _stupid_. You're _stupid_, Bartz, and your motivations behind each painting is _stupid_." Bartz merely gave a silky shrug and sighed in frustration.

Luneth let out a yell when Terra smacked the back of his head. His red cap scrambled across the floor. It slid near Squall's feet, who stomped on it before Luneth could reach for it. The boy protested for his hat but to no avail did Squall return it to him. Gabranth berated them for the ruckus. He was engrossed, like Golbez, in his painting. The latter had already sketched the outline of his perfect, happy tree.

"Well, what are you all staring at?" Bartz said glibly, "Get started."

Yuna stared at her palette of colours, unsure of what to do. She watched Bartz choose colours from the corners of her eyes, memorizing each paint that he collected with his many paintbrushes. She proceeded to emulate him. Art was never her strength, but it was not her weakness either.

She had the urge to draw the best tree in the carriageway, if it meant impressing her teacher. The latter had left his work, walking from one seat to the other, and gazing into everyone's attempt at creating an immaculate tree. He stopped to give advice, particularly to Squall, who stared at a blank page. Yuna suppressed a giggle, as she listened to Squall moan in silence.

"I can't do this," He murmured, when Bartz was out of hearing range, "This really is _stupid_."

"You are merely ignorant in the arts, Squall," Gabranth scoffed, as if Squall was a just a petulant child, "I still cannot believe that you joined these classes when your skills at art are below average."

Squall rolled his eyes. "I was forced into this. Bartz can sure shove his opinions down people's throats."

"Or you're too gullible, boy," His scruffy partner dictated, flicking his paintbrush elegantly over the canvas.

Yuna beamed to herself. She was definitely better at painting than Squall. Then she paused, giddy with childish excitement. She hadn't been this competitive since she played 'summoners and guardians' back in her childhood village. The scene was refreshing. For once in her life, she was glad she took a step for herself.

She was always out aiding others, making others happy, being the pillar of strength for those who needed it. She never treated herself, or any of the like. Now, she was delighted to have boarded the Phantom Train. Golbez had been right all along. She was growing accustomed to the people around her, to the Train's low howls, and to the painter that painted smiles on their sorrowed faces.

Then he was by their side, surveying their canvases. He broke into a wide grin when he came around to Golbez, praising the man for his work. Yuna longed to peer over into Golbez's canvas, to determine how great it was. A twinge of jealousy burned inside her. She wanted her work of art to be praised by Bartz as well.

He scurried over to Lightning, and stopped in his tracks. The colour was drained from his face, his eyes were wide with idiosyncratic confusion. Lightning lifted her paintbrush, scowling at him for staring so dismally at her painting.

"What is it?" She growled.

"Umh…That's doesn't resemble a tree," Bartz said honestly.

Since Lightning was sitting beside her, Yuna took a peek at the soldier's art. She almost dropped her brush upon seeing it. An uneven straight brown line was carelessly smudged in the middle of the page. Streaks of more dark brown extruded from that line, making it appear like a thin, crooked pencil with bad hair day. Green paint was fatly decorating the ends of the streaks.

Yuna restrained herself from bursting with laughter. Lightning wasn't joking when she said her painting skills were feeble.

"Come on, you gotta put more soul into your art, Lightning," The painter concluded, striding towards Yuna's side instead.

"Put more soul into it? As if such a thing exists," Lightning quipped sardonically.

"Let's see…" Bartz leaned in beside Yuna, and she almost gasped at their closeness.

His breezy scent infiltrated her nostrils again. He was so close, she could reach out and touch the smoothness of his face, the sharp curve of his jaw and the tip of his nose. His eyes were almost a golden blue-brown underneath the luminous light of the carriage hall.

He looked at her with a smile, his mouth moving, but his words melted before they could reach her ears. She was captivated, drowning into the oceans of his eyes. Then he was gone, like the wind, and all Yuna could do was let out a shaky breath of air.

Lightning fidgeted beside her, and moaned, a visible nerve throbbed on the side of her forehead. "This is not working."

"I know," Yuna breathed. She was afraid of her the way her heart fluttered when it was in close distance with the painter. Her face was warm. She didn't understand what was happening to her.

"But Bartz said your tree looks good," Lightning complained, smacking a palm on her forehead. She instantly regretted it since a streak of brown now covered her peach toned skin.

Yuna became engrossed in her painting. She mixed colours together to achieve different shades of hues. She paid attention to detail. As soon as she started on the leaves and blossoms, an hour had passed.

"Time's up!"

She looked up, disappointed the class should end so soon.

"We are getting off at the Evil Forest," Golbez explained to her, upon seeing her mesmerized, "Here, we take the train back to Zanarkand."

"But what about the Phantom Train? Is this the last stop?" She queried.

"No, each night, the Phantom Train travels to a new location, which is why we get off here to return."

Everyone was returning their unfinished pieces back to Bartz, and tidying up their painting stands. When the Phantom Train's wheels, screeched to a halt, they began leaving one by one.

Yuna realised that Bartz was still examining the paintings, a hand over his chin.

"Umh…" She approached him shyly, but he didn't heed her, or perhaps he didn't hear her footsteps.

"Bartz?" She asked again, but he was still busy scrutinising the paintings.

"Bartz!" He jumped, whisking around to face, and apologising hastily.

"It's okay," Yuna reassured with a giggle, and holding her hands behind her back, staring at the floor timidly, "Umh…Thank you for the class today."

He grinned at her. "You welcome. I hope it wasn't stupid."

"No, no, of course not," She said, shaking her head, "What happened to your tree back in the Moore Forest?"

"The Great Forest of the Moore," He corrected, "Well, that tree grew tall, and started sucking up all the light like a greedy geezer. I call him Exdeath whenever I pass by that place. Really, I feel as if I'm getting sucked into some vacuum near him." She was giggling again, her hand over her mouth, and he waved his arms enthusiastically, "No, I swear! It's like he has the powers of a void, or something."

"I see…I hope Exdeath will lose his evilness soon," She offered, and he let out a short laugh.

"I doubt that," He said firmly, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She jolted upright, electricity sweeping from his fingers and down her arm. His mouth was moving once more, but her ears had muffled out all sounds. She only heard the pulsating beat of her heart, forcing blood to pump to her head. Her ears throbbed with the rush of blood, her face was warm with heat.

"See you tomorrow then," He ended the conversation, and her smile faltered.

"You are not getting the train back?"

"Nope."

"How come?"

"Cause I want to see what's at the end of this road."

"Oh…" He was intriguing, she thought. She wanted to ask him more but Lightning's voice echoed from outside her, calling her. Reluctantly, she stepped out, glancing over her shoulder once more to wish him goodbye.

::::::::::::

The Evil Forest was the same as any forest that Lightning crossed during her life time. Trees and vines spread as far as the horizon, their shadows obscuring the train tracks and the sorry excuse of a rickety, old wooden station. Clutter of leaves fluttered above them in the nightly breeze.

Lightning shivered, not used to the cold at this hour of the night. The chill crept up her spine, and she breathed out misty vapour. She should have expected that, since she chose to wear a long sleeveless blouse and a brown miniskirt.

"Would you like to take my scarf?" Yuna had pulled out a woollen hat, matching pink gloves. She held out her scarf to Lightning, but the blonde shook her head.

Her eyes widened when Yuna stood on the tips of her toes and wrapped the scarf on the older woman's neck.

"Uh…Thanks," She stammered, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

She was certain that this Yuna was her beloved childhood friend from the past. It was funny, Lightning never believed in fate. She always sought to write her own fate, but her chance encounter with her lost friend amazed her. She didn't want to believe that it was fate. After all, fate was the one that stole her parents from her, and gave her and her sister their tough life.

After all the years where she considered herself to be brave, she was afraid of telling Yuna about their shared past. What if Yuna wasn't the same the girl? What if she didn't feel any spark of friendship with her? The Yuna from her childhood home was like another younger sister to her. She didn't want that perfect image of the girl to be burdened by a present Yuna who shared no connection.

However, she had to try.

"Yuna," She said, clearing her throat.

"Yes?" Yuna was busy fixing her hair into her hat. Her snub nose was flushed pink. She appeared so meek, and innocent, just like her sister Serah.

"I was thinking," Lightning began but some hard object whacked against her face, causing her to bend to her knees.

"Ugh!" She was sure that there was a bruise on the left side of her face. Snarling, she glanced the rag tag group of people for the culprit.

Luneth was staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights. His arm was extended, with his fingers shaking with trepidation. Squall had a cruel smirk plastered on his face.

"Are you alright?" Terra and Yuna gasped.

Lightning stood back to her feet, a feral grimace on her crimson face.

"I-I meant to get Squall," Luneth blurted, his voice squeaking like a frightened mouse.

"I apologise on his behalf," Terra cut in, stepping in front of the boy like a vanguard.

Lightning took the details of Luneth's school before getting on the train back to Zanarkand. Luneth was sandwiched between Cloud and Terra in the back, appearing distraught and scared. Lightning had threatened to report his nightly activities to the principal of his school. Now, the poor boy was biting the nails off of his fingers.

Lightning didn't like Squall either. She decided to wait for an opportunity to put that punk in his place. She used to be an instructor for his class a while back. It was one of the worst experiences during her military school. Squall in particular, was a reclusive introvert who carried a ridiculously sarcastic demeanour that frustrated her to her very core.

When Terra and Luneth had gotten off their stop nearly an hour later, Cloud came to sit beside Golbez.

"Hi," He greeted them, and Yuna beamed at him.

Lightning didn't understand how Yuna could confront every single person on the street with that radiating kindness. Not even Squall's blistering personality had cut through her. She was intriguing, Lightning concluded.

"Did you enjoy the class?" Yuna asked Cloud, and Lightning rolled her eyes.

"No," He stated and the girl frowned.

"How come?" She asked, but Cloud stared at his shoes and shrugged.

It was as if Terra had taken the caring Cloud with her and replaced the empty shell with the broody Cloud once again. Lightning stared out the window, uninterested in talking with either Golbez or Cloud. She didn't even wish to glance over at Squall and Gabranth's direction.

The heavy weight of sleep took over and she soon drifted to sleep. She dreamt of the Phantom Train, howling louder than the winter wind. Its wheels screeched against the metal train tracks. She was standing in the middle, waiting for the train to knock her down.

Before it did, she awoke with a jolt. Her head was resting on Yuna's shoulder. She quickly straightened herself and apologised. The girl shook her head with a smile.

They stepped out in the train station, which was now bustling with crowds of people. The insidious mist from two hours before had dissipated into the shadows, leaving the moonlight to stream through windows and paths.

Lightning removed her keys from her purse, and turned to Yuna. To her irritation, the girl was busy conversing with Golbez. Cloud had already vanished into the shadows. She didn't even see him leave the train after her nap.

She decided to wait for Yuna and Golbez to part. When five minutes had passed, and they were still deep in conversation, the soldier was growing impatient. She was about to interrupt them but two figures caught her eye.

One had premature grey, he was tall, wearing an old fashioned suit and tie, holding a cup of dark hot chocolate in his hands. Beside him stood another tall man, with silvery hair that gleamed like moonlight. He appeared to be anaemic with his brilliant, ivory skin and purplish lips.

A surge of anger washed through her at the sight of the first man. It was the Warrior of Light himself. She didn't know why he was still awake at this hour. The man relished in his beauty sleep, and was an early riser, much like herself.

"Claire, what a pleasant surprise," Light greeted her, and she forced herself not to tear his spine from his throat.

"That's _Captain_ Farron, to you," She corrected him through gritted teeth, "We are always soldiers, whether in the barracks or outside."

He blinked at her with an expressionless face, "I agree with you but there is no need for such formalities outside our professional careers. You have permission to call me Zest outside the barracks, Claire."

"A woman in the army?" Light's companion said beside him. Lightning's right eye twitched with ire.

"Oh right!" The other man said, "Claire, this is my assistant, Cecil Harvey."

Lightning flashed Cecil a disdainful look, yet the anaemic man displayed no fear. Rather he was unaware of her burning hatred. If Zest called her Claire one more time, Lightning was sure she would lose control of her patience and go berserk.

"Claire," He said again, and she restrained herself from punching him across the face, "Where is your assistant? We didn't see you two after lunch."

"What?" She cried, "I thought you weren't starting your training until tomorrow."

"Whoever said such a blasphemous thing," Zest said with an artificial chuckle, "Cecil wished to commence his training today, Claire. He hopes that I should get the promotion. Of course, it comes down to the best of us to achieve it."

Lightning clenched her fists by her side. They shook with potent fury, threatening to break free of her will and smash themselves over the Warrior of Light's face.

"Zest, let's return to the barracks and train for another hour before I head back to my house," Cecil told his tutor, who instantly agreed, to Lightning's annoyance.

He wished her a goodbye. She said nothing in return but seethed with anger when they left. She hated Zest Light with a fierce passion. The old-fashioned young main caused her blood to boil beneath her skin. She hated being compared to him, but the other Generals often compared their skills.

It took Yuna two clicks with her fingers to snap Lightning back to reality.

"Get in the car," The soldier growled, and Yuna frowned, slightly shaken by her sudden harsh tone.

"Sorry…" Lightning added quickly, but glanced at Yuna's hand. It appeared different. Wasn't she wearing a wedding ring before they boarded the train?

She knew Yuna had married some nameless soccer player that Lightning didn't give a damn about. The jewel was no longer sitting on Yuna's delicate ring finger. She must have removed it, for reasons unknown to Lightning.

When they entered her Mercedes, Lightning pulled out her phone and dialled Firion's number. She drove down towards Yuna's house like a crazy boar. Not even Yuna's whimpers eased her discontent emotions.

Firion's trembling voice answered the phone.

"I need you at the barracks, rag-head. _Now!_"

When Yuna had gotten off, Lightning drove eccentrically towards the army barracks. She then realised the pink scarf still woven around her neck.

Her fingers slowly circled around it. It was warm and soft under her touch. It had Yuna's scent, lilies and cherry blossoms. How come every girl had a flowery scent? Her sister smelt like lavenders, while her mother used to smell like jojoba.

Then she thought of the Phantom Train, and how it smelt like frost, mint and bittersweet despair.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow, I didn't expect to receive so much reviews for this story. I just want to thank all my reviewers, both members and anonymous, and also to those that take the time to read this story. It means so much to me. Thank you! :D**

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><p>A week had gone by since she first boarded the Phantom Train. During that week, she only slept three hours per day. She was certain that her face attained all the exhaustion that was too horrific for human eyes. Her features were contorted with miserable vexation and her eyes were surrounded by purple flesh that resembled fresh bruises. To the very least, her hair still maintained its silky softness.<p>

She watched her assistant carry out his two hundredth push-up. His body was drenched in sweat. It trailed down his forehead like rain. His rheumy eyes were too reluctant to meet her icy glare. His face was begging for mercy, yet he appeared too frightened to convert this into words.

After the day Lightning discovered Zest and his assistant in the train station, she drove down to Firion's house. Despite his family's protest, Lightning forced the man to march to the barracks in his pyjamas and train the whole day without food. Firion's sister, Maria or whatever her name was, threatened to sue Lightning over this humiliation, but Firion had hushed her.

From that day on, Firion endured harsh exercise with little or no food every day. His body trembled with fatigue but his determination (or fear, Lightning could not really tell) prevented him from backing away.

He then fell flat on his chest, his breath rushing out heavily from his chest. His eyebrows strained against his forehead. His face was to one side, expressing fatigue and pain.

Lightning stamped a foot on the ground.

"Get up!" She insisted, her tone authoritative with furore.

"Captain Farron," Firion wheezed, attempting to slide back onto his elbows with poor effort, "P-please…"

His imploring caught her off guard. This was the first time that Firion begged for a break. Her mouth curled into a dismal grimace. She hated people who gave up so easily. The human mind, according to her, sustained the mental capacity to never give up.

"How dare you?" She spat at him, and he flinched, despite having his eyes closed, "What kind of soldier are you, Rag-head? Your enemies could easily take advantage of your weakness! Get up _now!_"

"But Lightning," Firion started, his head lifting slightly to finally meet her irked gaze, "Just ten minutes, please?"

His subservient tone did nothing to enlighten her. She wasn't one to pity others. In fact, she lost all respect for him. Worst of all, he became bold enough to call her by first name. Growling, Lightning marched towards her assistant, picked him up by the shoulder. Her fingers curled into her palm. Her arm swung crazily, knocking against the side of his face. The impact sent Firion reeling to the floor.

He curled up into a ball, a desperate sob escaped his mouth. The sight of him made her stomach churn with discomfort. For a split second, she berated herself for being harsh on him. She was staunch in her training, so she thought everyone else was just as strong. In her attempt to triumph over the Warriror of Light, she had forgotten that Firion was still a trainee.

However, she didn't wish to display sympathy towards her assistant. She was afraid that he'd take her pity for granted and repeat this situation every time he wanted to rest. She had to remain steadfast and force the young man to get back to training.

"Please? _Please_? Is that all you can, say?" She condemned him, "Maybe I should kick you out of the army. How's that for an idea?"

At the mention of the getting expelled from the army, Firion jumped back into position. Despite the tremor of his muscles, he resumed languid push-ups, each movement more agonizing than before. His lips quivered with pain and fear.

Lightning pulled over a chair, plopping herself against it with one leg crossed over the other. She surveyed him like a hawk watching their prey. Firion was almost in tears. His body screamed for rest, as told by the weight of his push-ups, yet he made no more complaints.

Then, he fell back to the ground, eyes closed. Lightning got off her chair, suddenly apprehensive. She clicked her fingers to get his attention but he made no response. The beat of her heart increased in speed, until the only sound she heard was its drumming.

"Rag-head, what did I say about giving up?" She said, though not as harshly as earlier.

Still, Firion made no response so she rushed to his side, kneeling down and patting him gently on the shoulder.

"Firion!" She cried, realisation of her actions dawned on her like the light at the end of a tunnel.

"Is something going on?"

She snapped around to face Zest, walking back to the training centre with Cecil by his side. They were holding cups of hot drinks in their hands. She noticed that Cecil appeared fresh, despite his anaemic features. Unlike Firion, Cecil had no sagging skin under his eyes, no restive muscles.

Zest's eyes widened at the sight of Firion. He pushed his hot drink into Cecil's free hand and skittered to Firion's other side, opposite Lightning. He checked for Firion's pulse, and Lightning just sat there, frozen.

How could she have been so careless with Firion's health? She had wrapped herself in a cobweb that forced her to compete, and nothing more. Reality was pushed back into her, and she glared at Zest.

"I can handle this!" She barked at him, but he made no intention to leave them.

His grey eyes were focused solely on Firion's comatose state. He turned the young man's body around, and began pressing his palms over Firion's heart.

"You have handled enough, Captain Farron," He told her, and his calm, nonchalant tone fused a spark within her brain.

Firion was not responding to his efforts of resuscitation. He was unconscious. It dawned on Lightning that he was Yuna's best friend. The blanket of dread weighed on her shoulders. The world around her faded to blue and black. Yuna would never forgive her for this.

She would lose her childhood friend, all because of her own recklessness.

"Did you hurt him?" Zest asked, touching the blue, gaunt area on Firon's cheek.

"I…This isn't working!" She hissed at Zest, who still maintained his cool composure.

"Captain Light and Captain Farron!" Cecil cried, sprinting to where they were.

A team of medics were behind him. Without further ado, Lightning aided the paramedics on lifting Firion's tall and heavy body onto the stretcher. They were gone before her sight. She stood rooted to her spot, watching Firion's body grow smaller in her perspective before she could see him no more.

"That was quick thinking, Cecil," Zest praised his assistant, a hand on the anaemic man's shoulder, "I commend you for your tremendous effort."

Lightning's ears perked at his words. She never praised Firion for completing his training. Heck, she was nothing but a sour bitch towards him.

"I've been so blind," She gasped, eyes widening with astonishment, "I pushed him too hard."

Zest laid a hand on her shoulder, and she stared at him, mesmerized. "Do not belittle yourself, Captain Farron."

"Don't encourage her any further," A deep low voice resounded close by.

Sephiroth was striding towards her, his long, silver hair flailing behind him like impossibly long swords. His arms were behind his back, surrounding him in an authoritative aura. His cat eyes were mere slits. She couldn't decipher what was going through the General's head. He was mysterious as he was insidious.

"General," The three soldiers greeted Sephiroth with a congruous salute.

"Cecil," Sephiroth started, "That salute is proper. It seems that Captain Light has been teaching you well."

"I am fortuitous to have Captain Light as my tutor," Cecil said.

Sephiroth's thin lips curved into a malicious grin. A nerve twitched in Lightning's forehead. She knew which route this conversation was heading towards.

"I have seen everything that has happened," He drawled indolently, his gaze burning into Lightning's face, "And I must say that I am very disappointed in you Captain Farron."

"Sir?" She perked a supercilious brow. Sephiroth enjoyed toying with people's minds before spitting out the truth.

"This is why they say that women should not join the army," Sephiroth sighed dramatically, shaking his tremendous mane of hair, "Your kind becomes too emotional, and emotions are not suited for a soldier."

Lightning's fists shook by her side. "Then what do you propose happens after this?" She rasped, her every nerve seething with ire.

"Well, let us see, shall we?" Sephiroth chuckled darkly, "If you were a General right now, and you witnessed such a commotion, what would you do?"

She bared her teeth in a feral snarl. He was messing with her mind. Even Zest and Cecil jittered with discomfort beside her. She guessed what Sephiroth was attempting. The General was aware of how disdainful she was of Zest, and he was planning to humiliate her in front of her colleague.

"General," Zest broke out, and Lightning gazed at him with shock, "May I have permission to speak, Sir?"

Sephiroth glanced at him with a piercing look. Zest was unabashed by the intimidating glare. "Permission granted."

"I do not think that Captain Farron was aware of young Frioniels' heart condition," Zest surmised, "I am certain that if she was, then she would have reconstructed his training regime."

"Frioniel!? Heart condition!?" Lightning gasped, her heart plummeting into her stomach. Why had Firion not told her about this before?

She slapped herself mentally. Of course. How could he tell her when she wouldn't listen?

"Had she asked him?" Sephiroth queried, ignoring the fact that Lightning was right in front of him. He somehow pretended that she didn't exist.

"I have not, _General_," Lightning replied coldly, but Sephiroth didn't even glance at her.

"Tell Captain Farron to pack her belongings," The General spoke out, eyes cast towards the sky, "She is suspended for two weeks."

"Wait!" Lightning knew it was futile. Once Sephiroth came to a decision, there was no turning back.

She thought about Serah, and Yuna. What would they do when they find out? She thought of her mortgage and the house bills. They were due to be paid soon. How was she going to manage them? Her expression was nonchalant but inside, she was trembling. Lightning rarely felt fear.

Only Claire Farron felt fear, and Claire had died a long time ago. From the ashes, Lightning was born, to replace Claire. Lightning was not meant to let emotions drown her inside a turbulent ocean. Lightning was supposed to flash bright, and fade away with a powerful roar.

Her only weakness was her sister. She became Lightning to protect Serah. How could she protect her now?

Sephiroth swerved around, strutting away.

"Claire," Zest began but she pushed his hand away from her.

"Just…Don't," She said, tiredly, like an old woman, like an old soul.

"I am sorry for what happened," He offered, while Cecil shook his head in pity.

She didn't want their apologies or sympathy. "_Sorry?_ Just stop, okay?" She marched back to her dormitory.

Her heart suddenly longed for the Phantom Train, and its enigmatic howls, but she couldn't face Yuna now. Yuna will soon find out that Firion was sent to the hospital.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Yuna stared forlornly at her vibrating phone. This was the fourth time that Firion's sister was attempting to communicate with her but Yuna was in no mood to answer it. Lightning had suddenly cancelled their meet up before the Phantom Train on mysterious terms. She couldn't decipher why the soldier would disappear on this night.

In her desperation, Yuna had to plead Golbez for a lift to the train station. She was afraid that if she answered her phone, she would have to travel to Firion's house for dinner. After all, his family was concerned that she was currently living on her own in the apartment. They rendered her a helpless soul, who was lacking in tact to roam the spacious cities of Zanarkand. Hence, Yuna chose to ignore them.

She desired to see her beloved painter once again, the boy with brown hair that appeared to have been kissed by the sun, and eyes that reflected dancing blue flames against amethyst jewels. A week had passed since their first meeting, and she couldn't help but feel as if her heart was stolen by him. The organ beneath her ribs only sent oxygen to keep her breathing, but her breaths would cease whenever the painter was at near distance. She could imagine her real heart stashed inside his works of art.

What she would give to hold his heart too? To hold the pumping organ in her palms and stare longingly at it. To feel the tenderness of it beneath the tips of her fingers, and to hold it close to her chest, just to feel the way in beat in synchrony with her own. How she longed to have him beside her, to hold her, and to cradle her. She wished that he could whisk her away from this cruel, sombre world.

Alas, she could only dream of these moments. Her beloved painter was clueless to her feelings for him. She berated herself for these sinful thoughts. He would never acknowledge her. She was too dull as a person, too kind and predictable while he was sunshine, enthusiasm, and merriment. He was everything that Tidus lacked.

A gust of a wintry breeze sent tremors through out her body. She was currently waiting for Golbez outside her apartment, garbed in a halter neck cream top, and a long pleated violet skirt flowed gracefully to her ankles. She wrapped a woolly blue scarf over her neck.

It was a chilly night, met with occasional breaths of icy winds. Dark clouds imbued with glowing orange hues traversed above, rolling against shadows and astronomical light. She had given Lightning her favourite scarf, one that she personally knitted herself. The soldier never returned it to her, for reasons unknown. Yuna was too afraid to embarrass the older woman if she brought up the particular topic.

A rickety bumblebee car hovered close by and broke down in front of her. Yuna watched as Golbez cursed uncharacteristically and twisted his keys to restart the engine. It was amusing that such a large man was able to fit inside the tiny, two seated car. The moon-like man bellowed a ludicrous exclamation, slamming a large foot onto the brake. The car suddenly jolted to life, its engine humming like a busy bee.

"Greetings Yuna!" Golbez called from the window, beckoning her inside.

Yuna sat in the front passenger seat, to one edge, since Golbez's shoulders took up a lot of space in the front.

"….Greetings," She replied once the car took off at a tremendous speed.

"How are you today?" Golbez asked.

For a man past his middle age, Golbez retained the strength of youth. His eyesight was sharper than an eagle's, and his driving was equal in insanity to Lightning's, if not worse. Yuna sank into the cushions of her seat, soon to be devoured by the material, due to Goblez's speed.

"Fine, thank you, and you?" She huffed through gritted teeth, avoiding to bite her tongue as she gripped the edges of her seat.

"Never better. Are you looking forward to meeting Bartz today?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened in shock. She gritted her teeth in frenzy, losing her senses in that frantic moment. Why would Golbez bring up a topic that focused solely on the object of her desire?

"I…" She started, unsure of how to respond, "I…"

"Pardon me?" Golbez raised a supercilious brow, his eyes surveying the traffic ahead, "Are you not looking forward to see what Bartz has in store for us today?"

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It must have been a loud sigh, since Golbez watched her from his peripheral vision, with a ghost of a smile flitting across his lips.

"Of course," Yuna said to him, her apprehension evident in her shaky tone, "I am glad that we're finished with the perfect tree."

"Ah, that was a splendid lesson," Golbez reminisced in delight, "The rest of the world vanishes when I take up my paintbrush. All that exists is the canvas and my mind."

"Oh…You are very skilled at painting."

"It is something that I love."

"Have you always painted?" She regretted her words as dreary gloom shadowed his stout physiognomy.

He stared into a distant horizon with a wistful sigh, a distant memory and a past that only he knew. The world became nothing but oblivion to him. Yuna silently prayed that the car wouldn't slip off the road.

"No, it was Bartz that first suggested I join his painting classes. This was after I met him on the Phantom train over a year ago."

"Bartz was giving lessons in that place since a year ago?" Yuna blinked in surprise.

"He did indeed," Golbez chuckled, steering the car sharply to the left and overtaking a large truck, ignoring the horns he received from fellow drivers.

"When I first met Bartz, I had lost myself to the shadows," He continued, ignoring the rude gestures from the drivers that he overtook with his ancient car, "I had tasted the bitter wine of life, and I was embracing death."

Yuna stared at him, wishing to throw her arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight embrace. Golbez was a good natured person. It was difficult to imagine that he endured any sorrow in his life. She recalled the stories she heard of those that took the Phantom Train. The mysterious vehicle was paradise for people who experienced trauma and poignant sorrow.

However, Golbez also mentioned Bartz. The latter had been a regular passenger for over a year now. Had he also experienced such sadness that forced him to take the Phantom Train? Yuna found it hard to believe. Bartz was always cheerful and boisterous. His gregarious nature often enlightened the moods of those around him. He was a candle of warmth for the coldest hearts.

"Bartz was on the Phantom Train?" She blurted, but regretted her words. She should console Golbez, not enquire about her painting teacher.

Her friend let out a sly chuckle. "Yes, we first met on the Phantom Train."

"If you don't mind me asking…Why did you board the Phantom Train?"

Golbez's smile faded away. In its stead was grim hatred. His lips curled downwards and his features contorted with vexation. His sudden change in demeanour frightened Yuna. She glanced at her shoes, too terrified to look him in the eye.

"Because I lost my heart to the darkness," He told her dismally, "I succumbed to my weakness, and couldn't protect my younger brother because of that. I was nothing but a pitiful, empty shell. No soul. No mind. Just a zombie."

He confused her. She tried to decipher his words but to no avail. She was too afraid to ask him any further. Not when he was possessed with such raging anger. Then it struck her like a rock through a window. The anger emitted from Golbez was towards himself.

He hated himself, she thought sympathetically. He was filled with ire against himself. In his eyes was raw hatred. It was as if he wished to tear himself apart. He was breaking inside, and she couldn't prevent that. She longed to help him rebuild his shattered soul.

"I'm sorry…" She offered, resting her small hand over his large one.

He shook his head. "Forgive me for pouring out my misery on you. I often get carried off."

Yuna was glad that his face resumed its usual serene expression. She didn't want to reminisce the earlier irked look that darkened his features. It was horrific, and it tweaked her heartstrings with sorrow.

Golbez arrived at the train station, only to find that the parking spaces were all full up. He snarled and jammed his car awkwardly into the handicap parking space. When he got off, he surveyed the crooked way the car stood over the lines. The boot was diagonal to its front, almost touching the next car beside it. Whether it bothered him or not, the large man made no attempt to fix his errors.

The usually empty parking lot was boisterous with the voices of people. Men and women, extravagantly dressed roamed about the shadows. They chatted away with enthusiasm, huddling into groups to shield each other from the cold wind. Their breaths hovered in the air like mist.

"Are they all taking the Phantom Train?" Yuna queried, confusion enveloping her senses.

Golbez chuckled at her, and she glanced at him with her brows furrowed.

"Not at all, Yuna. Though I am not a fan of soccer, Zanarkand will be playing against Midgar tomorrow. I do believe that her citizens are travelling to support their team."

"Oh…"

Guilt constricted around her heart like tendrils of vines. Tidus' flashing smile formed in the back of her mind, before dissipating like incorporeal smoke. She had forced his existence out of her life, pretending that the painter stood in his place. Her vows, her nightly passions, her bouts of shared laughter no longer contained Tidus, but imaginary moments with Bartz. She even feigned that Bartz was the man she saw on her wedding night, not the absurd sports-star.

The painter had taken control of her heart and her mind. She blushed from her thoughts, forcing herself to stare at the ground, and patting her heated cheeks.

"Look, there is Cloud," Golbez's voice allowed relief to seep into her tortured soul.

She peered over the dancing bodies, noticing the awfully unruly blonde hair glinting in the artificial light. Cloud trudged his way over, hands hidden inside the pockets of his blue sweatpants. He nodded in acknowledgement at Golbez but didn't even give Yuna a second glance.

Yuna was accustomed to this intriguing behaviour. She understood that Cloud was as tough as concrete, and only Terra held the key to his heart. She knew that no matter how much she tried to befriend the recluse, she wouldn't succeed. Never the less, Yuna would flourish the man with gentle smiles and good words.

"Lightning's not here?" The morose ex-soldier asked, to no one in particular.

"She is busy with work," Yuna replied, and to her surprise, he nodded at her.

They hurried their way over to platform one. The Phantom Train was already present amidst the swirling mist. It kissed the metal silhouette of the vehicle, evanescent and surreal. Voices hushed, and spectators watched the three friends traced their footsteps towards the train.

At first, Yuna could feel her heart beating. She was afraid if people would recognise her. These were Tidus' fans after all. Luckily, since she was much hated by the sports society, not many people knew her face.

Then, her worries melted away, like ice in the sunlight. Bartz was waiting outside the carriage, and when his eyes met theirs, hers especially, he broke into an easy grin. The crooked smile filled her heart with delight, the same joy that she experiences when she devours down chocolate flavoured ice-cream with thick vanilla syrup.

"H-hello," Yuna stammered, for that was all she could do.

Her knees trembled, threatening to give way. She burned like charred coal underneath her garments. Her face flushed with heated shame, and she must have succumbed to her anxiety because Golbez's cool hand steadied her.

"Hey guys, let's get in before the train ditches us," Bartz told them.

He was about to move but Golbez blocked the painter's way with his broad shoulders. The burly man allowed Cloud to move before proceeding into the velvety wooden interior of the train.

"Help Yuna in," Golbez suddenly leaned down from the door, staring intently at Bartz, "She hasn't been feeling well since I met her."

"W-what!?" Yuna rasped, her tone raised to a squeaky pitch.

She must have resembled a frightened mouse when Bartz turned to face her. For the first time, she wanted to smack Goblez across the head but her schemes for revenge subsided when her hand was held by the painter.

His hand was warm, and his grip was firm. She had dreamed of holding his hand at a moment like this. She had greeted him with a handshake a week ago, but that was irrelevant and not intimate. She had imagined that his hands would be soft, like lilies and tulips, but was shocked to graze over callouses and rough patches of skin.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He spoke, eyes watching her with utmost concern.

"N-nothing," Yuna murmured, but everything was wrong with her, to the irregular rhythms of her heart and the lascivious intentions of her mind. Her father will never hear her confession.

"Are you sure you can stay for this lesson?" He said, "You can always go back home and sleep, you know."

"No, no, I am fine," She reassured him.

"Okay," He nodded, but gave her one of his sunshine smiles, "But if you're not feeling top notch inside, then you can always take a nap."

His other hand travelled to her shoulder. The contact with skin on skin sent jolts of electricity up her spine. He hoisted her over the ledge on the train, aiding her inside. She noticed Squall gaze at them, his icy cobalt eyes flashed with curiosity.

Hastily, Yuna made her way to sit beside Golbez. The empty seat in front of her left her with a longing to see Lightning. She had met the woman the night before, but her absence had struck Yuna with a sense of loneliness. As always, Cloud took up his favourite spot at the back of the carriage, aloof from everyone else.

"How did that go?" Golbez whispered in her ear surreptitiously.

"Don't ask." She pouted at him, scowling.

"You are very easy to read, milday," The old man chuckled, "Like a poetry book written by a child."

His gregarious mood did little to enlighten her. Not even Terra and Luneth's arrivals at the next stop could ease her fleeting emotions. She thought her heart had been torn in two, one part admonishing her feelings while the other praised her growing love for the painter.

She stared at him more and more, as he described their next lesson to them. She watched how delicately his hands held the paintbrush and wondered how his fingers would look, tangled in her hair, or how his lips would feel over her own.

Her mind was racing with concern. She was plunging deeper into a crisis that could leave her permanently insane. This wasn't just love. Her cheeks were warm at the thought. Oh no, it definitely wasn't love. It was the very sin that her father preached against in his sermons. It was the sin that caused friends to become arch enemies.

Her heart did not beat with a longing to protect Bartz. She didn't want his love in return. Yuna gazed at her feet, tears clinging to the edges of her vision. She was a horrible person. She lusted after another man, who was unaware of her lecherous desires. She ignored her husband, who called her endlessly just to be met with vengeful silence.

People like her deserved to burn in the darkest pits of hell. She was less than worthless, yet she couldn't stop her mind or her heart. She couldn't prevent her soul being enticed by Bartz as if he was a magnet. How would he feel if he found out? What if he was already married to another woman?

At that point, she wanted to vanish in the air, away from these people who suddenly seemed like strangers to her. She hoped to melt into the moonlight, to be carried away by its rays to the stars. If she only she could transmogrify into a star, so she could illuminate the paths of lonely souls seeking a way out of the darkness. If only she could be a more useful person, and not one with such lustful thoughts.

"Yuna?"

She looked up to meet the eyes of the man that captivated her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bartz was leaning down to capture her gaze with his own, perplexed one.

"Y-yes," She answered him, but her stomach churned with discomfort.

How dare he? He shouldn't be mere inches away from her. She regretted their close proximity, since his breezy scent infiltrated her senses, and all she saw before her was sandy esplanades and dancing palm trees. She was washed away to an island that stored all the precious memories of her homeland.

"You don't look so good," He said, reaching to touch her forehead, but she backed away, pushing his hand.

His brows furrowed with confusion, and he took a step back.

"S-sorry!" She stammered, her hands over her mouth.

He shook his head, giving her one of his sunny smiles. "You're okay! Just get started on the painting if you're up to it."

"What's wrong with the princess today?" Squall called out sarcastically, in his annoying monotone.

Hearing his voice caused Yuna to frown in anger. She grabbed her palette and began pouring out thick blotches of paint. Then she hesitated, unsure of what Bartz had mentioned in the lesson today.

"Cut it out, Squall," Bartz warned him.

"You can't silence him," Gabranth moaned, crossing his arms and glaring at the painter, "He has the wit of a dimwit."

"Wit of dimwit?" Squall raised a brow, his lips curling into a feral grin, "Never heard of that one."

"I presume he means to say that Squall possesses a wit that is lesser than the simplest of animals," Golbez offered, giving them all a sidelong glance.

Gabranth stood from his seat, appearing more unruly than before. "I don't need _your_ moronic dialogue!"

"Geez, no need to get in a fix," Squall bemoaned, rolling his eyes, but Gabranth didn't listen and strode over to where Golbez was sitting.

Yuna looked between the two. Golbez met Gabranth's irked expression with a cool nonchalance.

"Hmph," He said, resuming to paint, but Gabranth intervened by grabbing his paintbrush.

Golbez attempted to take his brush back, but the blond pushed his palm into the moon-like man's large forehead.

Bartz appeared distraught at the behaviour of the two men, pleading Gabranth to take his seat. Terra and Luneth watched terrified from the corner, while Cloud and Squall seemed like they had expected this commotion. Yuna inched back from her chair, not intending to become a victim. She worried for Golbez.

She sympathised with Gabranth but was unsure as to why the man came into the train smelling like a room full of fish, and wearing clothes that were rancid as they were dirty.

"Come on guys. Not this again. Can't you just let go of the past?" Bartz suggested, stepping closer to the two older men.

"If this _dog_ stops pestering me every day, then maybe I will," Gabranth barked, pointing an accusing finger at Golbez.

"There is no need for that language, Noah," Golbez started, still maintaining a lucid expression, "I do believe that Bartz has a point here."

"Shut your trap! How dare you call me by that _miserable_ name!"

"Noah, stop this nonsense. I am just trying to help you. That is all."

"I don't need your help. I don't need help from the likes of you- you _wretch_!"

"Every soul needs guidance, especially yours. You must first find the right path."

"I said shut up!" Gabranth raised a curled fist at Golbez, and a few gasps rang through the air.

"Oh stop it already!" Yuna implored, her hands joined together.

Everyone remained silent, all eyes staring at her. She burned with nervousness, swallowing her embarrassment before speaking again.

"I…Don't want you to fight, please," She explained, "I want…I want our journey to be full of laughter, not anger."

Gabranth stared at her curiously, before lowering his fist and taking his place back beside Squall. No one spoke after that. They all resumed with their paintings.

And Yuna wished she could have been home. If Lightning was here, then she wouldn't have felt so out of place. She didn't belong here. She was a stranger. They were strangers.

She glanced at Bartz, only to realise that he was staring at her. He quickly broke his gaze, skittering across to where Cloud and Terra were sitting.

He was also a stranger, she thought to herself.

:::::::::::::::::::::

This was her last time, she had decided. This would be the last time that she would board the Phantom Train. A week had passed, but her misery only grew like a field full of weeds. She didn't want to be near Bartz anymore. She didn't want to be near the other passengers either.

She didn't even feel comfortable around Golbez. They were all strangers to her. Her fingers were shaking. She longed for her home. Not her homeland. Her home deep in the heart of Zanarkand. For the first time in her life, she welcomed Zanarkand's flaring lights and noisy streets like home.

She was so immersed in her thoughts after she got off back at Zanarkand, that she didn't realise Goblez was missing. Her heart skipped a beat, and panic enveloped her insides.

She surveyed the area for the broad man but couldn't see him. She had fallen asleep on the way back, her head on Golbez's shoulder. When she awoke, she was walking as if in a misty dream. Her body was not her own. She was watching the soulless Yuna from above strolling back into Zanarkand's train station.

"Golbez?" She cried, looking through the hordes of people.

He was nowhere in sight. She didn't know how to get home. It was dark, and past the comfort of midnight. The station was situated a good distance away from her district.

"Golbez! Where are you?" She rasped, tears threatening to spill, as she clutched at the scarf around her neck.

"Yuna!"

She glanced around for the source of the voice. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she wanted to flow away like water, away from this place, away from life.

Bartz jogged towards her. He gave her a grin but she was too demure to respond back. She stood frozen, staring at him like a frightened rabbit. She had forgotten that Bartz didn't stay on the Phantom Train. He had returned to Zanarkand with them.

In the distance, she noticed Squall conversing with a short young man with elfin features.

"Golbez had to leave early. He asked me to take you home," Bartz explained to her.

She didn't want to go home with him. She didn't want to be near him.

"You okay?" He asked, when she didn't respond, "Umh...Are the classes going well for you? You seemed kinda lost today."

"I'm fine," She huffed, staring at her shoes, wishing that her very existence could have been erased, "Sorry…I mean…Sorry."

What he did next could have erased _him_ from existence. He pulled her into his arms and she gasped inaudibly. Her eyes widened with shock as his head leaned down into the crook of her neck. Her heart raced wildly, threatening to explode and scar her lungs. Her breath hitched inside her throat. The world melted into fire, water and eternal bliss.

Her fingers twitched with unease. She was unsure of what to do. Her body longed to return the embrace. She remembered how Tidus had circled his arms around another woman. It should have been normal, but it didn't _feel_ normal.

"Bartz…" Yuna whispered, eyes staring past the stars, into a distant sky that never appeared.

He tightened his grip and spoke in a low tone that sent shivers down her spine. "I could tell that you're going through a tough time."

_Don't_, she wanted to tell him. She knew his words held an entire different meaning, but the tone of his voice was seductive, without him realising. She was meant to stick with her decision of leaving the Phantom Train, not hoping to board it again. Did he have any idea as to why she was living through ongoing conflictions? He was the source of it all.

"But just remember that we're all here for you."

'_**We're**__ all here for you.'_

The words rang through her mind like echoes of broken glass. He pulled away, leaving her shivering in the cold once again.

"So, before we head off, do you want to join me and my mates for a time out?" He asked her, resuming his joyful appearance.

She gazed at the short man with the sharply cut blond hair, and then reluctantly at Squall.

"But…"

Bartz added, "Don't worry. Squall's bark is worse than his bite. He's not that bad once you get to know him."

Since when did Squall and Bartz share such a connection? They seemed like an unlikely set of friends.

"But…"

"No buts."

He held out a palm to silence her. With the same hand, he took hers and led her towards the other two men. Squall gave her an ambivalent scowl, while the blond grinned at her.

"Zidane, meet Yuna. Yuna, this is my best mate, Zidane," Bartz introduced.

"Yuna?" Zidane took her hand, kissing her knuckles, and she blushed, "Moon flower right? Such a befitting name for a beautiful lady!"

"Wait till Garnet hears about that," Bartz chuckled and Zidane shot him a petulant frown.

"You're not gonna tell her. I know you," He retorted.

"He could let it slip. This is Bartz that we're talking about," Squall pointed out and Zidane gave an exasperated moan.

"It's cool. I was just messing," The painter admitted.

"Squall's no fun," Zidane blurted, giving the indolent-eyed man a punch across the shoulder, "Anyways, let's head for those drinks!"

Yuna bit her bottom lip upon realisation of where they were headed. She never touched alcohol in her life. What would they say if they found out? Would they laugh at her?

"About time, I couldn't handle those classes anymore," Squall murmured as they trekked their way over to a glamorous BMW.

"What was that?" Bartz said, a hand over his ear with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

"Nothing! Zidance, how the hell did you pay for this car?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets," Zidane teased, twirling the set of keys in his finger.

"I know your rich girlfriend has a hand in this," Squall said, smacking a palm across his forehead.

"Squall!" Zidane protested, then gifted Yuna a flirtatious wink, "See? Squall's no fun!"

He unlocked the car, ordering them to go inside. Bartz was about to take the passenger seat but the blond immediately stopped him.

"Bartz, have you forgotten the rules?" He said.

"Huh? What rules?" The painter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"When a lady is present, they always get front seat," Zidane reminded him, and Yuna could picture that her face must have been as red as a tomato.

"Eh?" Bartz scratched an irritated spot on his head, "Since when?"

Zidane rolled his eyes. "Since _now_."

Bartz replied with a silky shrug. Although Yuna found Zidane charming, she was in no mood to sit beside him. To her dismay, the blond forced her to take the passenger seat.

They drove to a bar that was not too far away from the train station. Upon hopping off the car, Yuna saw two bodyguards dragging a man out from the entrance by the legs. They swung him to the ground and warned him to stay away.

The intruder scrambled back to his feet, shaking a fist at the bodyguards.

"I'm a Turk, yo!" He cried, "Do you have any idea who I work for?"

"Look, its Reno," Squall pointed out.

The man gazed at them, his eyes glimmering with recognition. He trekked his way towards them with a drunken gait. Bartz pinched the sides of his nose while Squall rolled his eyes and pushed the red haired Turk away from them.

"Squall, you're my friend aren't you?" Reno stuttered, hiccupping between sentences.

"No," The silent man replied.

"Should someone call Rude to collect him?" Bartz whispered among them.

Yuna was terrified. She barely knew the three friends that she was following. Reno was a shady character, and he was completely drunk. She was afraid that he would drown in his intoxication and notice her feminine charm. She was afraid that he'd attempt to rape her.

Unconsciously, she leaned against Bartz, holding his arm. He glanced at her from down his shoulder, his hand closing overs hers. His touch was warm and alleviated her rapid heartbeat.

"Just leave him," Squall suggested.

"Squall! We couldn't just leave him hanging here," Zidane gasped. Reno nodded his head in agreement.

Zidance turned back to Reno. "You three go on ahead, I'll call Rude."

"I'll help you," Bartz offered, stepping away from Yuna, "Squall, take Yuna inside."

She didn't want him to leave her side, not when Squall's piercing gaze fell upon her. He grunted at her to follow him. She did reluctantly, glancing back at Bartz and Zidane who consoled the drunken Turk. Bartz caught her eye and flashed her a gentle smile, but it did little to comfort her shrivelled heart.

The bar inside was dark, and clustered with many people. The air reeked of alcohol, and Yuna held back tears. She was alone amongst strangers. Not even Bartz's presence would calm her now. She wished to be home.

Squall chose a circular table with stooled seats. She sat opposite him, avoiding to stare at him directly, her hands wringing over and over in nervous anticipation.

"I know what you're up to," Squall said, breaking her away from her thoughts.

She gave a confused look. His icy glare froze her features, and the smell of fresh air from outside was inviting. All she had to do was run out, but how would she get home?

"Just for the record," He continued, "You're not Bartz's type."

"W-what?" She stammered.

She didn't expect Squall to be inquisitive about her intentions. She didn't know that he could see through her like clear glass. How could he notice the way she stared at Bartz? His words struck through her like metal spires, tearing through her flesh to expose bone and blood. Was she truly not the type of woman that would please Bartz?

People praised her feathery brown hair, her mismatched coloured eyes, and ivory skin. However, Yuna thought her features were too soft, too flat. She didn't have the beautiful sharpness that possessed Lightning's face, or the heart-shaped head that belonged to Firion's sister. She wasn't particularly beautiful. Was it beautiful girls that caught Bartz's attention?

She shook her head. Why was she even musing over this? Why did Bartz's opinion matter to her this much?

"You are mistaken," She said to Squall, more coldly than she intended.

"Hmph," He dismissed her comment with a sardonic, mirthless grin, "Whatever, but I'm not stupid like the others or Bartz. He deserves someone better."

All she could recollect from his words were that Bartz was currently not in a relationship, unless…

"Do you…" She paused, unsure of whether to continue her question.

Squall's eyes widened with frigid anger. He immediately retorted, "No! I already have a girlfriend."

"Oh…" Yuna blushed with heated shame, "I'm sorry."

Squall glanced at the sky. "She used to be in a coma a few months ago. That was when Bartz got me to join the Phantom Train."

She didn't know why he was telling her stories of his past. He must have trusted her, because this was unusual for him. She couldn't understand why anyone would love Squall, but for the first time since she met him, there was fierce loyalty blaring beneath his cobalt eyes.

"Is that when you first met Bartz?" Yuna questioned him curiously.

"No, I've known him and Zidance from way back." His eyes squinted with caution, "He's an important friend to me. So I don't want him getting hurt."

Yuna gasped, leaning back but almost fell off her stool due to forgetting that there was no back support provided.

"Do you…" She hesitated, unsure of how to form her words, "Do you think that I would hurt Bartz? How…How could you even suggest that?"

"You like him a lot, don't you?"

"I…" Her hands covered over her mouth. She had let her feelings slip into the gloomy atmosphere. "I don't…"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a bad liar?" Squall stated with a bemused smirk.

"Hey guys!" Zidane's boisterous tone interrupted their dismal conversation. He sauntered his way to the table along with Bartz.

"Rude came to collect Reno. The poor guy was too drunk to even walk by himself," Bartz said, shaking his head in dismay.

"I can't believe you two helped that moron," Squall sighed in disbelief.

"Do you really need to a reason to help someone?" Zidane countered, to which Squall shrugged with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Zidane suggested that they order their drinks. Squall was set on ordering the fiercest whiskey in the whole bar: Time Compression, while Zidane settled on Lifa Tree, a more benign version of the drink. To Yuna's surprise, Bartz was allergic to alcohol, so he ordered a non-alcoholic cocktail. Yuna used the same excuse, and she was certain that Squall regarded her with doubt.

Zidane and Squall left the table to collect their orders. A heavy weight clung to Yuna's shoulders. She was too embarrassed to stare at Bartz anymore, not after what Squall had told her. She fiddled with the pleats of her skirt.

"So you're allergic as well?" Bartz started, and she wished she could have smacked his mouth.

Speaking with the object of her affection only intensified her feelings for him. She nodded timidly at him.

"You should have seen me the first time I tried," He continued enthusiastically, "I was underage. Woke up in the hospital after it."

She gazed at him in shock. "But-but how? That's- that's illegal, isn't it?"

He chuckled at her response. "Believe me, most of the youngsters drink. Did you ever ask Luneth?"

"Luneth too!?" The fifteen year old child that exhibited brilliant cleverness. She was beginning to feel detached from the bar. How naïve was she?

Bartz appeared distraught and guilty. "Damn, shouldn't have said that…Hey, tell me more about yourself."

"I…" She couldn't tell him the truth. He would spurn her forever. "There is nothing to say."

He crossed his arms across his chest, and raised his brow. "_Okay... _You live here in Zanarkand, right?"

She nodded, glancing at her hands, and wondering why her ring finger looked so naked.

"I am currently living in Balamb, you know, Squall's town."

"I don't know."

"He didn't tell you?"

She shook her head.

"What a grouch," He chuckled.

Then she realised that he didn't carry any of this painting instruments with him.

"Your belongings?" Yuna reminded him.

"Hmm?" He gazed about him with a wistful glaze over his eyes.

"Your art materials are not with you."

"Oh that!" He recalled, "I left them on the Phantom Train. They will return to my studio."

It was a dreary explanation. "How?" She narrowed her eyes.

"I don't know myself. They just end up back in my studio every morning."

"Your studio?" She inquired, enrapt with awe at his celestial presence.

"Correct. My studio is situated in Balamb. I work on commissions and galleries in my free time. What do you do outside the painting classes?"

"I…" Her mind raced with possible answers. "I work part time, in the zoo."

"The zoo?" His eyes widened with petulant curiosity, "I love that place!"

"Really?" Yuna asked hopefully, smiling at him genuinely for the first time that evening, "I could…Take you there one day."

His smile toned to a softer look. "I would love to."

They stared at each other wordlessly, smiling, and forgetting all that there was in the background. No bodies, no sounds, no banter interrupted their gaze. It was the first time that Yuna stared into his soul. He had left his soul exposed for her to dissect. She traced every inch with her imaginary scalpels.

"Well, well, did we miss something?" Zidane interjected, placing Yuna's pineapple and coconut cocktail in front of her.

"Yuna works in the zoo," Bartz told him.

"Charming," Squall said with a sarcastic tone, taking his seat beside Bartz again.

"Are we invited?" Zidane turned to her, and then he added slyly, "Or is it only a date with Bartz?"

"I-I…!" Yuna swallowed her nervousness.

"Hey, I asked her first," Bartz joked, laughing at Zidane's antics.

"That's nice," The short blond agreed, "Bartz kinda needs a girlfriend anyway."

"G-girlfriend?" Yuna blurted.

"Zidane! Stop spoiling the mood," The painter demanded, while Squall's eyes burnt a hole through Yuna's forehead.

They resumed a more solemn conversation after, talking about politics and listing the names of people that Yuna had no idea about. She berated herself for not paying attention to the news. She made a mental note to keep up current affairs so that she could converse with the men in the distant future, if such a future existed.

A memory of Tidus formed in the hollow depths of her mind. It was a memory that was the epitome of her guilt and her fears. If Bartz found out about her true past, then will he discard their friendship?

She stared at him as he talked animatedly with his mates. He didn't notice her yearning look towards him. It was true that he considered her a friend now. His heart was so close, all she had to do was snatch it and stash it away into a secret pocket within her soul.

Once again, she caught Squall gifting her a dreadful glare. Their conversation changed to the Crystal Cup, only making her stomach churn with unease and chaos. Every moment reminded her of Tidus, but her heart longed for the painter.

The rest of the night fled through her fingers like sand. Zidane opted to take her back to her district. He was surprised that she lived in one of the most prestigious streets in all of Zanarkand, himself living close by.

"You see, my girlfriend is the mayor's adopted daughter, and I moved in with her this month," He explained to her.

But his words drowned in her ears, like waves over a deep chasm. She could only think about the Phantom Train, and the fate that it had thrown her into.


End file.
